I've Just Seen a Face
by Dance in the Moonlight
Summary: Eight very different people wake up from a very similar dream. Pieces begin to fall into place, faces are found familiar. Our favourite survivors set out on a curious journey to find one another, and one question rings in the air- what does it all mean?
1. The Future With the Lights On

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter One: The Future With the Lights On

* * *

**Fairfield University, Dorm 4D, 08:48 AM**

"B...b-boomer..." she muttered into the cardboard.

Zoey gave a little start and jerked up, eyes unfocused as she tried to get his bearings on what the hell had just happened. She reached up and pulled a glop of hardened cheese from a pizza box from her face. The PC whirred in front of her, the glaring screen making her eyes hurt.

In large letters flashed the words Game Over.

She took a deep, would-be settling breath, trying to work out why the hell she was so spooked. She had dreamed... about what? She could remember guns and rotting flesh and hats and bridges. They all floated around in her mind, puzzle pieces that didn't seem to slot in anywhere.

Zoey gave a little yawn, clenching her eyes closed before taking in the darkness of her dorm room. She'd fallen asleep whilst gaming. Again.

Her mouth opened slightly in a dopey way as she noticed the slit of daylight glaring from beneath her drawn curtains. It was... was it? No. Couldn't be.

She lunged across the room, almost toppling off of the wheelie chair as she made a grab for the small digital clock whose red numbers flared against the blackness. Her head still thumped dully from the nightmares, and even this faint light made her eyes burn.

08:48. That gave her, what? Twelve minutes to make it her lecture before she was deemed late (again) and her father called by to have serious words- again. She'd made it in seventeen minutes before- maybe she'd have time to set a personal best.

Zoey smirked vaguely at the idea and made to jump up. She had to stop for a moment, however. Her head still swam, and she felt a little queasy.

_No time, no time, Zoey!_ She chastised mentally. _Run like hell!_

_Run like hell..._

It was official. There was no way she was going to make it across the campus on foot. Zoey darted out of the living facility, hitching her dark hair back into a ponytail as she went. She hadn't bothered to change out of the clothes she had fallen asleep in- a cherry red sweatshirt and worn jeans. They were rumpled, but given the time she had, they would do.

She hurried to small student parking lot to the side and quickly slammed open the door of her considerably beat-up car. She complained about the state of the old thing often to her parents. They, after all, had more than enough money to buy her a more functional model. Seemingly insistent on not spoiling her, though, they still refused.

This morning, she was just glad to have a car at all.

Pulling the door shut behind her with a snap, she thrust the keys into the ignition and was tearing through the small campus moments later, making short work of the street.

Somewhere just behind her eye sockets, the pain still thumped. It was almost to the point that she couldn't see entirely straight, and ever sound seemed to echo until the sounds were alien, unfamiliar...

_I'm calling zombie bullshit on this! _

_I know how this movie ends. _

_Louis, your row isn't boarding yet. _

_Someone's still alive?_

_I ever tell you about the time my buddy Ellis stole a race car from the mall and ran over a bunch of- _

'Shit!'

The car skidded as Zoey slammed the breaks down with alarming speed. It jolted to a sharp halt, her seatbelt cutting tightly into her chest and keeping her still. The damage, however, was done. Zoey's eyes flooded with confusion and horror as the man slid off the bonnet of the car and onto the road, white shirt stark against the darkness of the ground.

She'd hallucinated. That was it.

And now she'd hit someone with her car.

With trembling fingers she undid her seatbelt and collapsed out of the vehicle, red Converse snubbing against the street as she rounded the bonnet.

'Oh my God.'

The man was in perhaps his thirties, tall and trim with dark skin and a smooth, bald head. His briefcase lay nearby, busted open. Papers fluttering away.

His left leg was twisted at a funny angle, like a bendy straw. The tie matched the flecks of red.

'I-I need to get someone. I didn't mean to... I'll call an ambulance. Stay awake,' she gibbered, speaking too fast and too low for the semi-conscious man to hear. 'Are you okay? Stay awake, please!' Her voice grew louder, shriller. The reality of what had happened was hitting her like... like a car.

She knelt by the man's motionless head as she dialed 911. His eyes were dimly alert, watering in pain. Widening as they took her face in.

If she hadn't been practically screaming down the cell at that stage, she might have heard him mutter her name before passing out.

**Eyewitness 10 News Station, 09:14 AM**

It was safe to assume that Rochelle's day was not getting off to the desired start.

She had woken that morning in a panicked state, still exhausted after a fitful night of obscure dreams, only snippets of which she could actually remember.

She didn't find this very fair- surely if they had robbed her of a solid slumber she deserved to remember the damn things. But no. Rochelle woke up that particular morning dizzy, head swarming with a hundred inhuman shrieks and the echoed calls of shadowy figures, the rattle of firearms and the warm, slick splatter of blood...

Not dreams, no. Nightmares.

If it had meant getting to stay in bed, she'd rather have faced the horrors.

And, interestingly enough, as the icing on the cake that was this grim, shitty morning, Rochelle's news station was held up by a gang of thugs that day.

No. Really.

So here she was. Standing amongst a crowd in which panic was slowly but surely setting in as three, four, five leather-clad, tatoo-bearing brutes entered the boardroom one at a time, each bigger than the next. Every biker held a small pistol- the kind Rochelle would have imagined men like this would be ashamed to use.

Her limbs felt heavy, tense, and her forehead prickled. It had pained her dully since last night with the misted-over quality dreams left, thick and distracting.

'Everyone down.' People hesitated, still unable to believe that this wasn't, in fact, a prank. 'I said DOWN!' the biker bellowed, long dirty-blond hair swinging forward as he gestured fiercely with the weapon. The gathered group dropped quickly, Rochelle included.

How did those security assholes manage to bungle this one?

'Do you know who we are?' the blond asked loudly, surveying the trembling news crew. There was a general murmur of response.

Another thug, nearer Rochelle this time, clicked his tongue disapprovingly. 'Didn't your mama ever teach you not to mutter?' he asked, voice booming. She glanced up riskily from her spot by the table leg. He was big; all rippling muscles contained beneath a vest, powerful arms inked up and down in intricate tattoos.

'Hell's Legion,' she whispered in understanding as she read the most prominent one.

The man nearer her noticed her in a split-second. 'Something you wanna share with the class, little lady?'

A deadly hush fell across the board room. The news crew looked on, some wincing.

Rochelle took a small breath. 'Hell's Legion. It's- just- you're Hell's Legion.' She was vaguely proud of the way her voice didn't tremble, even under the huge man's stare and the gun's gleam.

'Girl here is right. She's a bright student, Francis,' the blond man chuckled to him. 'Well, Channel 10? Know why we're here yet? Caught on?'

Everyone knew, of course. It was a well-known fact within the station that the owner, a disgustingly rich man by the name of Matthew Marks, was in some way affiliated with the gang. No one knew exactly how. There were suspicions, of course- rumors of the paying of protection money and more outlandish ideas, such as Marks actually being a functioning member.

'But Marks isn't here,' whispered Rochelle.

Goddamnit. Her head was spinning, pounding. She couldn't think straight. She felt like she was high or something. Her head, oh God, her head...

'You got more to say, doll?' the blond hissed, obviously aggravated. He crossed over to her and grabbed the hot pink fabric of her shirt, hitching her upwards to her feet. He smelled of grease and sweat.

'Little vixen could do with a little shutting up, eh Harvey?' another biker snickered.

Something sparked.

'All I'm saying,' Rochelle continued quietly, calmly, 'is that if it's Marks you're lookin' for, you ain't gonna find him here. Not today. And if you think he'll come here to save _us_... well, you're wrong, buddy.'

One or two people in the room nodded minutely.

'Shut it, tiny, now.'

'There's no point in scaring the shit out of innocent people whe-'

The slap resounded around the room. Dazed, Rochelle raised a hand to her stinging cheek. Did that bastard really just have the nerve to-

'I hate when they don't cooperate.' The man near her, Francis, said testily. Harvey turned to him suddenly, jerking his slimy head in Rochelle's direction. She leaned a hand on the table. Francis nodded seriously and pushed the gun forward, prodding her in the shoulder with it. 'Out.'

A few dozen frightened eyes watched as she made her way out of the room, the imposing man by her side. He lead her to one of the small, darkened kitchen areas and closed the door behind him, turning to raise his eyebrows at her and fold his arms as he stood before the exit.

'So what?' she snapped, heart beating quickly. 'Is this the part where you beat the shit out of me to make an example for the others out there with a hint of backbone?' Rochelle snorted. 'Cos I'll let you know right now- there are none.'

There was a pause in which he just looked at her with some surprise, taking in her clenched jaw and tensed shoulders. 'Nope. You're just lucky you're not a dude. Or a less-hot woman.'

She gave a bitter chuckle. 'Marks won't come, you know. You should just go. Nobody needs to get hurt- we can bargain.' She didn't dare hope. Hell's Legion was infamous for it's ruthlessness.

'Psh- it doesn't work that way, sweetheart.'

'I said we can bargain.'

Francis boomed a short laugh. 'I have kicked serious ass for being irritated way less. Got a name?'

She breathed deeply. Maybe if she could keep him talking long enough, help would arrive. Kept one more thug away from the news crew, in any case. 'Rochelle.'

'Gorgeous,' he responded with a faintly goofy wink. She guessed he wasn't talking about the name.

'Those are decent people out there- Francis, right? They're spinless, but they're good. They don't deserve to be put through this.'

'You mentioned bargaining.'

Rochelle blinked. Was he humoring her? Either way, she felt less afraid of him than she had been outside. He had a strange way about him, though- something simultaneously intimidating and benevolent that told her he could flirt with her one second and snap her neck like a toothpick the next.

She took the risk.

Rochelle leaned in, tilting her face up to almost meet his. He raise an eyebrow, clearly enjoying it. A sweet smile crept across her full lips- and she grabbed the pistol he'd placed in his jean pocket and pushed him backwards.

Francis gave a startled grunt as he pushed himself away from the door, taking in the short and now armed woman. He smirked.

_Rochelle and the biker dude, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G... _

'So let's bargain,' she said sardonically.

'Well, that was impressive... now gimme that- you can't even work it.'

Rochelle responded by quickly taking the safety off the pistol and pointing it in his face.

Francis looked a little fearful for the first time. He quickly mastered it however, ever the man. 'Where'd a nice lady like you learn to handle a pistol?'

'I... I don't know.' Rochelle glanced at the gun in her hand. She held it so steady, as though she'd done this a million times before. How _had _she done that?

_Anyone who survives this shit is going to be in great shape... _

_This is not happening... this is not happing..._

_Nice vest._

'FRANCIS!'

She snapped out of her daze at the yell, her face snapping up to take in the biker above her. His face still hovered above hers, the gun held firmly in place. His eyes had seemed almost vacant for a moment also, brow furrowed in thought. He raised a gloved hand, knocking on his temple a few times as he tried to kick himself into alertness.

Harvey's roar came again, closer in the hallway outside, making her jump. Her cheek still stung. 'Francis, man, the place is swarmin' with cops outside! We gotta bail, man!'

Francis batted the gun aside deftly, and she didn't resist. He pulled the door behind him open, before turning around with narrowed eyes. 'What kind of freaky voodoo shit WAS that?' He was confused, looking at her with bewilderment and only a flicker of recognition.

She shook her head, speechless, and the door slammed in his wake. The sounds of escaping criminals echoed through the building, and she vaguely wondered if everyone outside was alright. Her legs were trembling. Not from fear, no. From the utter _awareness _of it all.

The hotel. The infection. Coach, Ellis, the gambler in the white suit. People on the bridge.

It had all been real. Hadn't it? Her nightmare... it couldn't be.

Rochelle slid to the linoleum tiles of the kitchen floor, trying hard to think. She remembered. She remembered everything.

She let the pistol fall.

* * *

A/N: Well well well. Our surviving eight have all awoken from a curious dream- some recalling things, some not. What will this lead to? ;o This fic is rather spur of the moment, but I myself kind of like the idea. Next chapter will feature other characters, as well as what's going on with Francis, Louis, Zoey and Rochelle (who, incidentally, was the first person to realize that some freaky stuff is going down).

Feel free to share any thoughts you had about this chapter- I got pretty caught up in writing it. :3


	2. Brave Enough

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Two: Brave Enough

* * *

**Ward Thirteen, Mercy Hospital, Fairfield, 13:36 PM **

'He's not going to press charges.'

Zoey nodded, expression tentative as she glanced up at the nurse. The hospital corridor was quiet, and luckily too- she didn't think anyone would have wanted to see such a nervous wreck of a girl sit staring into space for a few hours straight. She was a mess- peaky with stress, still-unwashed hair falling out of her ponytail. She hadn't changed yet.

'Says something about it being his own fault- he wasn't watching where he was going.' The nurse sniffed, blue eyes critical. She evidently disagreed with the man's decision. 'He wants to see you if you wouldn't mind.'

She hadn't been expecting that. She didn't really want to have to face the damage she'd done- the red-tied man had suffered a broken leg and severe bruising to his hips, and, as the nurse had sternly reminded her earlier, he was lucky to have escaped with just that. Zoey slid her legs out from beneath her in the seat and stood, nodding again. 'Yeah, okay.'

When they reached the room the doctor was on his way out. '... and yes, just take two of those pills should you be in any severe pain. They're rather powerful. I'll check in on you in a few minutes, sir.' He nodded amiably at Zoey as he left.

She entered in past him, and what greeted her was something she'd never fully forget.

'Zoey! What the hell's going on?'

'You... what-' Zoey began, but the man continued almost feverishly, eyes frantic.

'First of all I wake up in my OWN BED, next thing you know I'm being told I have a meeting- a meeting!- over at the college, and... and then you crash into me with your deathtrap. I mean, the hell girl?'

Zoey stammered for a moment, and then made some strange noise somewhere between a gasp and a incredulous laugh. 'How do you know my name?'

The bandaged man propped up with pillows raised his eyebrows. 'Zoey? Hey, you with me? Keep up here. It's me, it's Louis.'

'Mr, uh... look... Louis. What happened this morning was completely my fault, and I'll never be able to fully tell you how sorry I am. But... you're tired. It's been a bad morning. I'm going to let you get some rest, and, uh, I'll be back soon.' Biting her lip to hide from view her confusion and discomfort, she turned to leave.

'Zoey, what do you think you're-'

'I don't know you,' she muttered, staring firmly at the red tie that had been hung by the door. 'I just don't. I'm sorry. I'll be back.'

'Wait!'

She hesitated briefly before the guilt overwhelmed her and she turned back to face the injured man, Louis. He had a large bruise adorning his left cheek, though the swelling seemed to be ceasing. His eyes, however, were bright, alert, boring into her beseechingly.

'What?' This morning had been too much. She could barely think straight.

'Your name is Zoey. You're a student here in Fairfield. Your favourite movie is Alien. You know how to use an insane amount of weapons from just watching actors do it. You're immune to the Green Flu, and-'

'The Green what? Look, man, I don't know how you know all this about me but let me just say it's more than a little creepy.'

Louis's expression became softer. 'You really don't remember, do you?'

She shook her head defensively. 'Dude, I have no idea what you're talking about.'

'Well. I guess we have a little catching up to do.'

**Dmitri's Bar, Cleveland, 22:57 PM**

It was ironic, really. The fact that, when confronted by a gang of armed muscle-men, Rochelle hadn't batted an eyelid- but here, in the back alleys of the city as she entered the dingy, dark bar, she felt a bubble of nerves shimmy its way around her stomach.

The cops had let her leave early after she insisted enough. They'd found her slumped on the floor, eyes wide open as she thought hard. She'd been unharmed, and after giving her statement she was permitted to go home and calm down. They'd even given her a number to call should she run into another sticky situation. On the flip side, as she left she caught her superiors looking at her with a new respect.

Yes, she'd gone home. To wash up and try to get her head around what was happening. But she didn't stay there. She knew what she had to do.

It had taken her six attempts to find the right bar, cruising feverishly through the back alleys of the city. Hell, even the fact that he'd end up in a bar had been a lucky guess. But here she was... and there he was.

Rochelle crossed to the bar. She didn't frequent bars like this, and she was sure it showed. Large men sat around tables in the shadows, some speaking in loud, rough tones, some playing cards. There was no music. She also noticed, with a little twang of nerves, that she was the sole woman in the place. Great.

He had his back to her, focused entirely on his beer and with grunting back and forth at the bartender. She came to a halt behind him, and gave the man she somehow new a strange look.

'Francis.'

He turned around quickly, and his memory of her from this morning was apparent. 'Well, look who it is. You got a couple of buddies waitin' outside or somethin'?'

'What? No. Look- do you know who I am?' She hadn't sat down. Her warm brown eyes were intense, and Rochelle wondered briefly if she was simply going insane.

Francis snorted quietly. 'Sure. You pulled a gun on me this morning. Not something I'm gonna forget so fast.'

'No, listen-'

'You should get outta here, babe. Not exactly the scene for people like you.'

He was unarmed now, alone, she noticed- and the dodgy though public area made her feel secure. Rochelle glowered at him. 'Boy, I am sleep-deprived, cranky, and I've had a pretty goddamn traumatic day. So shut yourself up and _listen to me._'

The bartender leaned on the counter, surveying the interesting scene. 'Wanna buy your girl a drink, bud?'

Rochelle gave him an icy look. He turned away.

'Francis-'

'Look, you keep sayin' my name like you know me or some crazy shit like that, and-'

'Because I do know you! Are you really tellin' me you don't remember a thing? The... the infection? The bridge? The dream?'

He looked at her with an almost patronizing gaze. 'Beats me what you're talking about.'

Rochelle shook her head, aware that she was quickly beginning to resemble someone who belonged in a home. He really couldn't remember. She bit her lip anxiously. She had to make him. She had to. He'd started to raise his eyebrows by the time the idea struck her.

'Wait- look.' She grabbed the neckline of her pink t-shirt, stretching it as far as it would go so that her collarbone was exposed.

A sudden catcall echoed from somewhere in a shadowy corner of the bar. 'Stop teasing, baby, don't be shy!' The man in the scarlet shirt chuckled lecherously, but his companion in white simply smirked, not looking up, and took the distraction as an opportunity to slip three extra cards from his sleeve.

Francis frowned faintly as he looked at the long scar that ran along the bone. It appeared to be about two weeks old, jagged and relatively deep. Rochelle stared at his face, willing something to come back. 'I didn't have this when I woke up this morning, Francis. Let's just go outside. Please.'

He responded by draining the last of his beer and leading the way. The bartender stated loudly that he hadn't paid, but Francis merely shot him a look and the meek man turned away again.

The night air was cool, but welcome after the stuffiness of the bar. Under the stinging neon sign, Rochelle turned to him again. 'I think the scar came from a Hu-'

'A Hunter,' finished Francis deftly, without thinking. Then he looked away and back again, bewildered. 'Wait... wait. Seriously? I think... I can sort of...'

'Go on,' she urged.

'I remember being on a bridge or something. Which is just weird, cos I hate bridges. Anyway, I think... I think you were there... and others. You told me you'd so something if I got the bridge down. What the hell was it, though?'

Rochelle felt a sudden heat darken her cheeks, and for an moment she considered lying to him. However, it was best she should encourage whatever he could remember. 'I promised you I'd kiss you,' she said lightly.

'You think if you do, it could help me, I dunno, think back more?' he said slowly.

Rochelle raised an eyebrow. 'You know, I highly doubt it. After all, I actually didn't-'

'W-what's your name again?'

She'd gotten this far. She was not having him forget another thing. Rochelle grabbed him quickly by the vest and dragged him down, crashing her lips into his. The kiss was short enough, tainted with the taste of strong alcohol... but something felt right. It was good. It shocked her, but she masked it by shooting him a 'happy now?' look as they broke apart.

'Found your dad yet? What about Colonel Sanders or the hillbilly?'

Rochelle blinked slowly. 'Don't tell me that kiss just made you remember that stuff.'

Francis shrugged, grinning down at her and winking. 'Sweetheart, I remembered a good twenty minutes ago.'

**Ward Thirteen, Mercy Hospital, Fairfield, 09:04 AM**

Louis and Zoey had stayed awake all night, he propped up on the bed, she on the chair in the corner. Talking. Theorizing. Remembering.

Well- in her, case, trying to.

It wasn't that she didn't believe him. She couldn't say why, but she did. She believed everything he described so vividly. The infection-torn Fairfield, the gargantuan Tanks, the entire thing.

So know she knew about everything, true. But why couldn't she actually _remember _it?

Louis looked exhausted. He opened his mouth to ask, but before he could she passed him another pain pill. He chuckled and took it, letting her stew in the silence and think. She trusted this Louis. Somewhere, deep inside, she did know he was her friend. He had been. And now he treated her as he had before- like she was his surviving companion, one of the only ones he had left. And while his wide smile and optimistic manner comforted her some, she still didn't find it familiar.

'Who were the others we stuck with, again?' she asked wearily, picking at the remains of a tray of rubbery hospital food.

'Francis and Bill. Francis, you'd remember him if you saw him alright. Huge, I mean HUGE, covered in tattoos, the worst vest I have ever seen. Anything?'

She shook her head, frustrated.

'And Bill... well, Bill was Bill. Older dude, chainsmoker with a beard. Military uniform. He saved us all on a lot of occasions... I mean, a lot. Once we find him I really need to thank-' Louis broke off suddenly, his mouth opening slightly.

'What?' Zoey said. 'Is it the pills? You didn't take too many, right? Are you still in pain? Louis?'

'Bill. BILL. Shit, shit, shit. Zoey, you need to find him.'

'Louis, what're- why? I don't know- I can't! Why?'

'Because... because he died, Zoey! He died when we passed through Rayford. A Tank was... he saved me. He saved all of us... Look. I'd go myself, but there's no way they're discharging me yet. You just need to see if he's okay. If he's alive.'

Zoey gaped at the request. 'How?'

'He... uh, he served in Nam. That's it! Fairfield Library will have some kind of records. It's Bill Overbeck. Remember that. Please, Zo, you just need to check.'

Zoey looked at Louis. He was anxious, perhaps to know that this man's death no longer lay on his shoulders. She nodded slowly. 'I'll need to get the subway.'

'Why? Isn't your car outside?'

'My dad, he had someone come pick it up last night.' She chuckled nervously. 'Your head dented it.' Louis laughed quietly, thankfully, and she went on. 'He always has repairs taken to this place in Georgia. I don't know why- he says it's the best of the best. Anyway, they usually drive it back up once they're done. So I need to get to the underground, snappy.'

'Zoey- just how wealthy is your family?'

'I try not to think about it so much.' She smiled weakly.

**Savannah Auto Repairs, Georgia, 12:19 PM**

The radio crackled faintly through the warm air of the auto repair shop, the crooning voice marred slightly by the static.

_'Save me some sugar, _

_This won't take long. _

_I won't promise to stay the night, _

_I won't sing you no song.'_

There was a small ding as the bell gave notice of the man's entrance. He crossed to the counter and looked around the empty garage, finally spotting the pair of legs projecting from beneath a vehicle. He strode over.

'Hello?'

'Wha-' Thud. 'Ah, shit!' A young man scrambled out awkwardly from beneath. His face was blackened and he grabbed a rag from nearby, attempting to rub dust from his eyes. 'Goddammit!'

The businessman gave him an apologetic look. 'I didn't mean to shock you.'

'Naw, you're good man. I just didn't hear ya come in over the Riders is all.' He grabbed his hat and hopped up quickly, dusting off his coveralls. 'Name's Ellis. What can I do ya for, man?'

'I'm here to drop off a car for Mr Marks,' the man began. Ellis' face suddenly tensed, his expression becoming more respectful. 'It belongs to his daughter who was involved in an accident yesterday.'

'Oh? Gal okay?'

'She was perfectly unharmed, thank you. Now, I have to be going. I trust the usual arrangement stands?'

Ellis nodded a little balefully. 'Fix the car up real good, then get it up to wherever the man needs it to be in Fairfield. That's the usual plan, anyways.'

The man nodded. 'Thank you very much.' He pulled out an envelope and handed it over. Ellis' grease-stained hands smudged the white paper. 'I trust this will cover you for your troubles?'

Ellis nodded quickly. The envelope was thick- bursting at the seams with cash, as every sum the repair shop had ever received from Mr Marks was.

'The car is just outside. Oh, and enclosed is ID for his daughter. You've been instructed to bring it to her directly, as he'll be out of the country for the next few weeks on business. You understand?'

'Couldn't be any clearer if you'se a button-hook in the well-water,' Ellis replied cheerily.

'I have to be on my way- thank you again.' The man left presently. Ellis had only ever met Mr Marks in person once, and it still mystified him as to why he and his buddies' repair store had become his one of choice. Still, he wasn't complaining.

'Dave!' He yelled over the sound of the radio. 'Marks left somethin' in- another job. Somethin' about it bein' his kid's.'

Somewhere in the depths of the store room, a whoop of happiness answered him. Ellis smiled to himself- wages were always good when Mr Marks' employees came to Savannah. The radio squeezed out the last few strains of the song from the corner.

_'Save me some sugar,_

_That's all I'll ask of you._

_You're my old lady,_

_But the road's my lady too.''_

He leaned against the counter casually, prying the seal open to count the swag. Wedged into the envelope was a photograph. The ID, he assumed. He pulled it out, flipping the laminated paper around- and suddenly dropped the chunk of cash onto the auto shop floor.

_Zoeyzoeyzoeyzoey. I could say that all day, man. Zoeyzoeyzoeyzoeyzoeyzoeyzoey. I just love sayin' it, really. _

A bemused grin crossed Ellis' face as he stared at the _angel_ in the picture. He remembered her. He didn't see how he couldn't have.

'Well, holy shit.'

* * *

A/N: And Ellis returns! ;D I do love this boy. Now, I know the plot may still be a little unclear, but let me just say that very soon, things will become more explained. Still, I hope you're enjoying. Also, I trust everyone noticed the slight appearance of one of our heroes in the bar, indeed? ;)

So it's now been confirmed that different survivors can remember different things. For example, Louis, Ellis and Rochelle's memories came almost instantly. Francis's took a little probing, and Zoey's having difficulty with the entire thing.

So share you thoughts if you feel like it. Your feedback so far has been so lovely, and a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. :)


	3. As I Reminisce

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Three: As I Reminisce

* * *

'Ro, don't leave me with these idiots...' Nick muttered.

Coach was tucking a strand of Rochelle's hair behind her ear as Ellis clumsily unpacked the defibrillator. She was sprawled limply across the pavement, petite limbs bent at odd angles from the utter force with which the Charger had rammed her off the rooftop.

Her breathing was coming in quick, irregular bursts, and her eyes were wide as she struggled to take in the three faces that swam above her. They closed slightly.

'M'sorry, Ro...' said Ellis. He charged the paddles quickly and shocked her twice. Her eyes snapped open again and her breathing become shallow, more labored. It wasn't working. The boy looked close to tears.

Coach reached out slowly and took her hand in his. 'You was a good one, little sister.' She looked up at him, not finding enough energy to respond, but he knew she could heard it. He knew she understood.

Nick looked on silently. He opened his mouth once or twice, as though to speak some comforting words to the dying lady, but merely looked away in the end.

Each of these three men, somewhere deep down, would have given their own lives if it meant saving her- this feisty, caring woman.

The end came anyway.

When they moved on later, Coach shook his head sadly and gave Ellis a reassuring slap on the back.

'You alright, son?'

'Yeah... I mean, it's just- she was like a sister t'me, ya know? I loved 'er somethin' fierce.'

None of them could have predicted he'd be the next to go.

* * *

**Bluemont High, Savannah, Georgia, 14: 34 PM **

Coach had dreamed again last night.

He dreamed often. Sometimes about his sons, sometimes about the old days, occasionally about the places he'd been, the people he once knew. Some were once-offs, some were recurring. He was also a big believer in the significance of dreams. He knew that if they wanted to tell him something, anything, they'd find a way to get their message across.

This one felt different.

It reminded him distinctly of the dream he'd had a night or two ago. Neither were pleasant- and he couldn't remember diddly squat much else about any other aspect of them.

He didn't worry too badly about it, though. Surely if he couldn't recall what the dreams had been about, they couldn't have meant much. Couldn't have been important.

Right?

Coach finished the last of his coffee and went to set up the gym for the first Phys Ed class after lunch.

**Fairfield Library, Fairfield, 14: 56 PM **

Zoey felt a little bit better, now.

Sure, she'd hit someone with her car and been told some of the weirdest stuff she'd ever heard in the last day or so, but clean clothes and washed hair made her feel fresher, more alert.

She hurried up the stone steps and through the swinging glass doors of the huge building. It was a pretty impressive library, she knew, even if she wasn't a regular. It was a place she'd been dragged a lot by her mother when she was younger, back when the woman thought she had a chance to turn her daughter into someone who appreciated the classics.

She appreciated the classics, alright. The George A. Romano classics.

'I need to see the archives, I think,' she explained to one of the librarians. 'Of the soldiers from Fairfield who fought the Vietnam war.'

'Oh? History project?'

Zoey shook her head. 'Personal reasons, I guess.'

'Any particular years of significance?'

'Uh... no?'

'Follow me,' the woman said, beginning to lead the way down the seemingly endless polished aisles crammed with old books. 'I'm afraid you're gonna have a little trouble finding what you need, dear. There's a lot of names and faces who came and went from this city during the time, you know.'

'Yeah,' Zoey replied. 'I do have a name though, if it helps.'

'It could.'

'Bill... Overbank. No, it was Overbeck. Bill Overbeck.'

'Full name William?' the woman inquired.

'I don't actually know. I guess so, though... not many parents would've just called their kid Bill, right?'

'Most likely so. I'll see if I can find any records like birth certificates or registries. Just wait here.'

The woman took off in another direction, heels click-clacking in the silent library. Zoey couldn't remember why she hadn't liked the place as a child, but she now had a vague inkling; the stillness was creepy as shit. She took a seat on a polished mahogany bench that divided the bookshelves, looking around, idly reading the titles printed on the dusty spines of the volumes.

The words on a turquoise paperback caught her eye, and she considered the book for a moment.

'Here we are!'

The librarian had returned, clutching in her arms a large folder. 'Records of everyone drafted at the time,' she said. 'If the man you're looking for is anywhere, he'll be in here.'

Zoey thanked the woman and she left, leaving the girl to flip feverishly through the O's. Sure enough, there he was.

William Overbeck, received a couple of medals, yadda yadda.

She smiled to herself, slamming down a phone book from another section on the bench. She'd known this man, though she couldn't even picture him in her head other than what Louis had told her.

Linked by dreams. By nighttime images. The idea danced around in her mind, seeming to flaunt it's implausibility. She pulled out her cell and dialed the number she had taken from Louis before leaving.

_'Zoey?' _

'William John Overbeck... if the records are right, he was born and raised in Fairfield. Sixty-four years old.'

_'That sounds like Bill alright. Got any contact details?' _

She nodded, though aware Louis couldn't see her. 'I've got a name, address and phone number. That means he's still around, I guess.'

_'That's great... Zoey, that's really great! Now, you need to find him and bring him-'_

'Hold it. Louis, you told me to make sure the man was alive. I am NOT going bounty-hunter on his ass and-'

_'Girl, do you or do you not want to get to the bottom of this shit?' _

'I just traveled halfway into the city because you told me to!'

_'You hit me with your car!' _

Zoey sighed, a small smirk finally quirking at her lips. She shook her head, half-angry with herself for being so unable to put the foot down. 'Play that card, why don't you. I'll call you once I've made some progress.'

_'Thanks, Zo.' _

She passed the front desk on the way out and approached the woman, placing the turquoise book on the marble counter.

'I'd like to check this out.'

**Apartment 33, Elwood Apartment Complex, Cleveland, 16: 03 PM**

'So let me run trough this one more time.'

'Again?' Francis complained.

'Humour me,' Rochelle replied dryly. 'So I know for sure that Coach teaches PE in Savannah. Makes life a whole lot easier, because I remember him mentioning where the school was in the area before. Ellis runs an auto shop somewhere in the same area- again, could be worse. Right?'

'Right.'

'Nick's a problem... he's totally incognito. Could be using a fake name, for all I know. Shit, though... you know, surnames would be really helpful.'

Francis stretched out lazily in his chair, placing his boots on the coffee table. Rochelle cleared her throat loudly and he quickly swung his legs down. He'd crashed on the couch in her place the night before, so that he wouldn't have to book himself into a motel. Rochelle hadn't cared- they both had bigger issues on their mind. She'd taken a short term of sick leave from work, claiming her experience at (Francis's) gunpoint had left her shaken and unfit for work.

'Remind me about your group?' she asked. 'The girl- it was Zoey, right?'

'Yessiree. She's some kind of student studying somethin' in some fancy college.'

'Could you be a little more specific?'

'I was a little more busy shootin**'** than listening at the time.' Francis retorted. 'She was in Fairfield, I know that much- they all were.'

'There was another guy... Louis?'

'Yep. He did some kinda officey type thing.'

Rochelle sighed slightly, scribbling more notes down onto the pad. For all that she found the rough biker entertaining and sometimes strangely sweet, he really lacked some basic recollection and observational skills.

'That's it, then?' she muttered, surveying the page she'd filled with everything helpful about everyone they could remember. It wasn't a lot, but it was a start.

'Hell no,' Francis said suddenly. 'There's Bill.'

'Bill?' Rochelle frowned. She couldn't place a face to the name, and for a moment she was worried- perhaps her memories only went so far?

'He'd, uh, moved on by the time we ran into you guys. He was a soldier with the US durin' Vietnam or somethin'. Annoying old fart. Kinda missed having him around to piss off, though.'

Rochelle jotted down this last name and facts. Six names highlighted the page. She wondering if perhaps their memories too had come back, or if these people were going about their day to day lives, oblivious. That would make finding them harder.

'I guess we're heading South,' she finally said.

Francis ran a hand over his buzz-cut, eyes narrowing a little. 'Fairfield's just one state over, though. Wouldn't it make just a _little _more sense if-'

'I want to get to Savannah first,' she interrupted. 'I wanna find Ellis and Coach... See what they know. You don't have to come,' she added testily.

'Ro, I'm plenty capable of doing this shit on my own but somethin' tells me it'd be a hell of a lot messier if we split the job. We'll head South.'

Rochelle nodded seriously. She was glad; glad not to have to do this alone, glad for the company to block out the ceaseless whirring of her restless memory. 'Thanks.'

'Let's get the hell outta here.'

* * *

The sick sound of a butcher's knife tearing into flesh. The deafening blast of a rifle.

The sound echoed in Zoey's ears above the sound of her own sobs that began to rise from her chest, painful and rattling. She hurried forward, kicking the corpse of the Hunter off his chest, Louis close behind.

'Biker dude?'

'I'm pretty torn up, huh?'

Why did Francis have to be so reckless? Why did Bill have to be so selfless, so full of leadership?

_Why?_

'Why is this happening to us?' she moaned quietly to Louis, leaning over the biker as the other man placed a hand on her shoulder from behind. He wished he could reach down and take her away from here, to tell her not to look, that everything was going to work out.

She'd look anyway, and he thought she knew it'd be everything but okay.

'Dammit... I hate Hunters,' Francis muttered, lazily moving a hand up to rest atop the flowing wounds. The blood was coming too fast, too plentiful for them to prevent.

'Me too, man,' Louis whispered.

There was no time.

Francis gave a tiny snort and died quickly, the shadow of his last smirk frozen on his face. Zoey had stopped crying as fast as she'd began. Bill's going had almost killed her. Now there was just emptiness. Nothing.

Hope. The damn thing left a scar.

The two kept going, eventually. As long as was possible. Until they couldn't.

**Sid's Pool Hall and Poker, Cleveland, 17: 28 PM **

'Read 'em and weep, ladies.'

'Aw Jesus, Oliver, tell me you're kidding.'

'You wish, sunshine.'

The man in the white suit gave a self-satisfied smile and laid down his cards as his three opponents pushed a small fortune in poker chips across the table to him. The more he won, the more they seemed sure he downfall was imminent, and the more they bet as a result.

Nick went by a lot of names these days.

Another drill-in-the eardrum pain twinged somewhere in the back of his head. He could barely believe he was still suffering headaches from what had to have been about two nights ago. He'd barely remembered what the hell he'd hallucinated in his hotel room, but needless to say whatever he'd been drinking that evening was to be avoided in the future.

Still though- suffering the mother of all hangovers and duping a trio of chumps out of some serious cash when the sun hadn't even set outside. Not bad.

'Another round, gentlemen?'

Outside, a car trundled to a halt. The dark-skinned young woman raise an eyebrow at the man in the vest. 'Make it quick, Francis, please.'

'Not my fault that I have a bladder the size of a goddamn bottle cap,' he grumbled.

'We're not even out of the city yet... so c'mon, mush, go.'

Francis was in and out of the pool hall faster than she'd expected- maybe, she thought, he was beginning to take it all a little more seriously. Instead of opening the car door, however, he merely leaned down and rested an arm on her open window, a knowing look sidling it's way onto his face.

'You might wanna see this.'

**5 Sinston Avenue, Fairfield, 17: 49 PM **

The doorbell hadn't even finished it's chime when the sound of a lock being undone could be heard and the white door was pulled back.

'Mr Overbeck?' she began awkwardly. 'You- you don't know me, but-'

'I know who you are, Zoey.' The old man didn't smile and his voice was gruff, but his eyes warmed somewhat when he looked at the tense girl. He placed the newly lit cigarette in his mouth, watching as she took his statement in with some obvious relief.

'Yeah... good. Problem is... I don't know who you are, Bill. I can call you Bill, right?' She bit her lip, feeling a little ticked off that she'd been sent into this puzzling and awkward situation when they could have waited a little while longer.

'Respect for your elders never stopped you before,' Bill remarked crankily, standing back and allowing her into the small hallway. It smelled strongly of smoke, and the little furniture was drab and colourless. 'You say you don't remember?'

'Nothing.'

'Then how the hell-'

'Louis sent me,' she said quickly, a little perturbed by how unsurprised the bearded man seemed by all of this. 'He wants me to take you to him. If that's okay.'

He nodded brusquely, heading a little further down the hallway to grab a drab green jacket and military beret from a hook by the kitchen door. She glanced down for a moment. He seemed so prepared, so alert. Maybe he could shed some light on the whole shitstorm.

'Um... Bill?'

'Stop being so reserved, kid. It doesn't suit you.'

She chuckled at that, albeit a little nervously. 'Can I ask you something?'

He headed back down towards her, gesturing with a hand for her to continue as he passed her in the doorway. She followed him out, blinking again in the bright sunlight that seemed to glare obnoxiously in contrast to the dim little house.

'Louis said that... before... he said that you saved us and you were-'

'Yep. Dead as a doornail.'

And with that, Bill barked a short laugh and started off down the street, leaving Zoey to shake her head and pull the door closed behind her, following closely behind.

* * *

The silence. Some just can't bear it.

Some don't need to.

* * *

A/N: Hmm. Ro and Francis are in for quite a job with jolly old St Nick. Also, all survivors have now appeared- woo! It's been a rather dark chapter, however, though if you caught on right you might have a good idea of what's going on. Any guesses? Take note that some sections don't have the time and locations noted.

Also- how do people think my characterization is? It's kind of difficult, actually- like trying to mingle the characters we know and love with the attitudes they would have had pre-infection. Either way, I just hope it's believable.

Thanks a ton for your reviews, everyone- you rock. Hopefully you'll stick with me? :)


	4. These Mishaps

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Four: These Mishaps

**A Highway, 18: 05 PM**

'We have kidnapped a con artist, most likely affiliated with a gang or two, and are currently driving across America to reunite ourselves with some people we don't actually know. No way on God's green earth is this shit gonna work out neatly.'

'You're just working that out now?' Francis retorted from the driver's seat. The highway was vastly empty, so while he was now happy to take off in the car like a bat out of hell, Rochelle looked edgy in the back. Beside her Nick was slumped, a seatbelt hastily bound around him and a purple bruise now just barely visible in his hairline.

Rochelle looked at the man across from her with a flicker of concern she knew deep down he didn't quite deserve. 'You shouldn't have hit him so hard.'

'Look, the dude wasn't listening and there was no other chance in hell that we'd get him to come with. Besides,' Francis went on with a slightly sadistic smile. 'You can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggheads, right?'

Rochelle rolled her eyes and watched Nick give a hefty sigh and shift a little. Even though the peace upon him was more of a dead faint than a tranquil slumber, just watching him made her feel exhausted. The stress of the last few days was hitting her and she relished the idea of shutting her eyes for just a few seconds. Francis's gaze was fixed steadily on the road, and he was humming some vague tune to himself. She let her eyes slide closed.

And that's when it happened.

She sensed a sudden movement nearby her head and heard a metallic chink. Within the next instant her eyes had flown open only to meet the cold, hard gaze of the barrel of a mini handgun. The car jumped awkwardly as Francis slammed to a sudden stop, and within another moment his gloved hand was pointing a pistol squarely into an irate con man's face.

Everyone froze.

Rochelle was immensely grateful Francis still had his gun. Francis glared at Nick with a powerful scorn. Nick was, to put it simply, pissed off to the max. It probably would have all looked quite comical, if you just mentally changed the weapons to rubber chickens or something.

'Either of you maniacs want to tell me what in God's name you think you're doing?'

Rochelle took a deep, steadying breath. 'Nick, cool it. Please. It's Rochelle, it's me. We're friends, you _assclown._'

'_She's _a friend,' Francis clarified, gun still held firmly.

'I got news for you, sweetheart. Friends don't kidnap friends and load them into a car headed out to east Jesus, nowhere. Look- if you're with Tony's people I told that ass I'd have the money sent out in...' There was a slight pause. 'What did you call me?'

'I called you Nick,' she said softly, tearing her eyes away from the barrel. 'Somehow I doubt you've been called Nick in a while, right? I know you.'

Nick raised an eyebrow and chuckled lightly, and for a moment she thought he might lower the gun he had pulled from his suit. He didn't, nor did the biker. 'What nut house did you two break out of?'

'Dreamed about any zombies lately?' Francis asked plainly.

'Not that I remember,' he spat.

'Well you did, cos-'

'Look,' Rochelle butted in. 'Can we please have this conversation minus the weaponry?' Neither of the men moved. 'Francis... put down the gun.'

'Not 'til moves his away from you.'

Rochelle looked pointedly at Nick. She could tell he was confused, though merely hiding it under a cold mask, as was Nick's way. She knew him. He wasn't about to shoot an unarmed woman. 'Nick?'

'Since your bodyguard here is gonna be that way... allow me to be the adult.' Glaring back and forth between the two, the man in the white suit began to withdraw his weapon with a slow precision. Rochelle breathed easy, and Francis, equally reluctant, moved to put away put away his pistol. She snatched it quickly from his hand however, and smiled apologetically as she pointed it into the now-helpless Nick's chest.

'Sorry... better this than you pulling that thing on us during our little trip, right?'

Nick shot her a particularly venomous glare and she slid the gun from his hand, handing it to Francis who shut it away in the glove box beside him. Francis sneered at him briefly, dark eyes flicking up to the bruise on his forehead.

'I overpowered you back in that pool hall, Suit. You really wanna make it best two out of three?'

Nick began to bite back but Rochelle interrupted again. 'You're coming with us, Nick. You just need to believe me... you _do_ know us. We can explain on the way.' Francis was already starting the car up again, eager to get on the road.

Nick felt his forehead and winced slightly. Well this was just wonderful. He was stuck with these two, until the car next stopped anyway. He shot the small, dark woman a cynical look.

'So start talking.'

* * *

_L.**.**_

_F ._

_B**.**_

_i'**m** so s**orry**_

The handwriting on the wall was shaky, almost unintelligible. If examined closely one might notice the way the second loop of the B was made a little too thin, making it resemble a P at first glance, or the way the top dash of the F was long, almost overtaking to the wrong side and making it appear something like a T.

It didn't matter.

She knew. All that mattered was that she knew what it said.

She was alone now.

The safe house around her was... quiet. More quiet than Zoey ever remembered. She bunched up a sleeve and tried to dry her cheeks, unfurling her legs into a more comfortable position on the floor. It appeared to be a fortified apartment, complete with a table overflowing with snow-white bottles of pain pills and some ammo. She wondered vaguely how many pills would be required to bring on an overdose.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice she knew all too well told her not to be so daft. _Don't start playin' around with those horseshit ideas, Zoey. They don't help nobody. _

She smiled bitterly, but the look was empty, broken. It was true... none of them would have wanted her to end it like that. Not while she still had something of a chance.

She needed to sleep. To not have to think.

Zoey pushed herself up unsteadily. The side of her head stung- an untreated scratch was still bleeding freely along the side of her face, the blood glinting like rubies along her peaky skin. She reached a hand up to it and looked blankly at the shine on her fingertips. _You've got some red on you. _The hollow grin returned as she thought about her movies and where they'd gotten her.

Her head snapped up at the sound of breaking glass.

They were in the apartment. They were coming.

_Great. Just great. _

The sounds of the infected making their way into the building brought a sudden heat to her chest- an anger than had lain dormant in her grief. She tried to steady herself against the wall, but her legs trembled. She lifted her dual pistols.

'Come on,' she snarled hoarsely. 'Come on, you assholes!'

They could hear her. Their pace was quickening- the hallway outside was echoing with their lumbering gaits, frenzied and lurching. There were too many. She stole a final glance at the letters on the wall and cried out again.

_'Come on!_'

The door collapsed.

* * *

**Ward Thirteen, Mercy Hospital, Fairfield, 19:13 PM**

Louis was looking expectantly at the door when they entered, Bill glancing around at the pristine whiteness of the room.

'This place is looking better than I remember it last... least the elevators are workin' this time around, I-'

'Can't stand stairs,' finished Louis with a slight chuckle. 'It's good to see you, old man.'

Bill nodded back amiably, sitting in a chair in the corner. 'Zoey really did a number on you with that car, eh?'

Zoey took the seat at the foot of Louis's bed, feeling at once at home with the people she had once known and left out of the old references she should have understood but could not. Her mind flitted briefly to the book she had borrowed from the library, before Louis spoke again.

'Bill, man- this is some grade-A crazy shit.'

'Took the words right outta my damn mouth.'

'I mean- the hell? Zoey has no idea what's what, I have no idea where Francis could be, you were _dead _and... well- everything's just too normal.'

Bill gave a short laugh at his words, idly fishing out a cigarette and a matchbox. Zoey caught his attention quickly.

'Not that I don't admire sticking it to the man and all that, but I'm pretty sure smoking in a hospital will get you kicked and we sort of need you.'

'Bill, look,' Louis said. 'Do you even have an idea of what's going down?'

'I have a couple of theories,' Bill replied slowly. 'None of 'em are likely, several are crocks of shit and some are just flower-power hippy crap gone wrong.'

Zoey leaned forward in her seat, interest piqued.

'What's the best one?'

Bill shook his head slightly. 'I don't want anyone jumping the gun, so that's staying under wraps for now. First- I wanna know how much you know. Second- we need to find the bigmouth.'

* * *

The only time Nick really allowed himself to think of them was when he got very, very drunk. It was the only time he could excuse himself for the recollections of the faces and voices, and pass it off as being the alcohol's influence.

There was no one to pass this off too but himself, but the fact remained.

The way Coach, though evidently less than fond of the con artist, had protected and backed him up every ounce as much as he had the others. The way Ellis was so eager to impress, though time and time again his endeavors would be met with a scornful look and a low jibe. The way, though he'd never have admitted it, Rochelle could occasionally make him feel a touch bad for such comments with little more than a choice glance.

The straight vodka burned his throat as he slugged it back with abandon. He wasn't picky- whatever was in the safe room cupboard would do. Maybe it'd once been used for sterilizing wounds. He didn't care all that much.

He'd spent about two days in this latest safe room, doing just this. Drink. Think. Repeat.

Vodka dulls the senses. It impairs your judgment- gives you idiotic ideas and makes one more confident and less coordinated. Less able.

Still, he thought groggily- he'd sober up and be out of here soon. New Orleans couldn't be far. He could make it by himself, not a problem. He was used to making it by himself. He thrived on it.

Fate had loaded the dice for Nick.

The gambler snorted mordantly and picked up his SMG from the floor, blurred vision settling on the door- behind which his distantly heard a sob of abject devastation.

His smirk turned more sadistic, and he swayed.

_Snake eyes... _

_

* * *

_**A Highway, 21: 21 PM**

Ellis grinned like a maniac as he shot down the worn road in the battered tan piece of scrap metal that was Marks' daughter's ride. It wasn't the usual type of car the wealthy man had hitched into the shop- Keith and Dave had salivated over three Porsches and a Jaguar to date. Whatever the case, the car was at least now functional.

And though a little perplexed and pretty tuckered out from driving all day, Ellis smiled.

Why? He didn't exactly know, but he guessed the heavenly face in the picture had some part to play in it.

His group's faces flashed through his mind, brain gibbering away about working out what this was that was going down.

He accelerated.

**Reg's Gas and Go, 21: 46 PM**

'Listen, idea.' Francis said as Rochelle plopped herself back into the passenger seat, clutching a paper cup of coffee with a newspaper tucked beneath her arm. The gas station was dingy, appearing even more so in the pale artificial light that illuminated the place on the otherwise black stretch of road.

'Go for it,' she responded lightly, blowing on the coffee as Francis began to pull out.

'This should be good,' Nick said from the back seat.

'Say what happened before wasn't a dream. Say... _this _is the dream. What if we're all passed out in a barricaded place somewhere, just catching some z's after a long day of brain bustin'?'

'If this was a dream,' Nick intoned. 'There would be a blackjack table, Vegas lights and a hell of a lot more women.'

'Charming, Nick.' Rochelle replied. She mulled over Francis's words. 'It could be, I guess. I don't think what happened was a dream either, but...'

'What?'

'I really, really don't know.'

**The Lobby, Mercy Hospital, Fairfield, 22:04 PM  
**

The commotion had just barely cleared. A few spooked interns stood by, looking meekly to the chief of medicine for guidance. Down the hall, the man being escorted to the emergency room hacked another cough and screamed something else incoherent. The medical chief looked briefly at the small crowd. 'Back to your stations, people.'

The younger doctors scattered at his words, evidently relieved that none of them would have to be the ones dealing with the delirious man.

'Dr Simmons,' a nurse behind the counter called.

He approached her, looking distractedly down at the clipboard in his hand. She frowned, forehead crinkling.

'You really think that guy's gonna be okay?'

The chief nodded easily. 'Bad fever, shakes, et cetera... nothing we haven't seen before, right?'

The nurse still looked uneasy, perhaps shaken after the scene the man had caused upon being brought into Mercy Hospital. 'Right.'

* * *

A/N: Yep... let the speculation begin, huh? ;)

Can I just say I LOVE reading people's opinions and theories on this story. It's fascinating to see what others think and enjoy about it, and you guys rock. You rock hard.

The scene between Nick, Ro and Francis at the start was so much fun to write... I'm so glad I finally have Nick to work with. Also a teensy bit of Frochelle. Three people, two guns... always interesting. Hehe. Oh, and anyone who can guess the movie Zoey referenced in that section gets a gold star.

Thanks for reading! ;D


	5. Connect The Space Between

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Five: Connect the Space Between

**Mercy Hospital, Fairfield, 00. 09 AM**

'You know what'd be super-helpful? Having the slightest idea where to start,' intoned Zoey as she, Bill, and a crutch-gripping Louis hurried (and hobbled) down the corridor of the hospital. Louis had been discharged about an hour before, and they had spent the rest of the time discussing ways to track down Francis.

Putting it simply, there were none.

'There has to be something,' Louis replied, eyes far away in thought as they moved. 'Somewhere we know he'd go if he remembered, maybe?'

'Fat chance. Fella hates every place we'd been in, so odds are he wouldn't be going back. He's probably robbing a bank somewhere kidding himself nothing happened.' Bill added.

'There's always the chance he can't remember stuff,' Zoey guessed. She was aware that the statement sounded more than a little wistful- it would be comforting to know that she wasn't alone in her memory issues, constantly having to be informed, always a step or two behind.

'Maybe.'

They reached the main desk and Louis paused to inform the nurse at the front desk of his departure. She didn't look up at first, seemingly preoccupied with the low conversation between herself and the doctor next to her. The man, too, seemed exhausted, his eyes misted over with an agitated look. Louis offered a tight smile.

'Rough night?'

The nurse pushed back her hair in a tired manner and nodded. 'You could say that, sir. I'm surprised you didn't hear the commotion from upstairs.' The doctor seemed to disapprove a little of her words, but Louis was quick to press on.

'Commotion? What kind?'

'A man was-'

'I'm afraid we can't disclose patient details,' the doctor cut in shortly. 'You wanted to check out, sir?'

Zoey quirked an eyebrow at the suspicious words as Louis signed some papers. Bill had went on ahead through the large glass doors, and she could see him outside, already lighting up a fresh cigarette. She didn't entirely blame him- after the ordeal she'd been told they went through in this place, it gave her the skeevies too.

Louis turned to her, nodding towards the doors and the inky black city beyond them. 'Let's do this.'

**A Highway, 02: 38 AM **

'Grease monkey.'

'Asshole.'

'Moron.'

'Amnesiac frea-'

'Okay, boys, this has gotta STOP!' Rochelle snapped, glaring back and forth between Nick's eyes that were fixed on the window and the back of Francis' head. The trading of jabs had gotten old fast, and she was sick of playing peacemaker.

'Woah, no need to get so intense,' Francis said in a playfully level tone. She sighed.

'Semi-strangers or not, we are adults, and we can act like it. So the next person in this car to continue this rousing game of Pass The Diss before we hit Georgia is gonna make me get that gun outta the glove box and-'

'That's a serious...' Nick's most likely sarcastic comment was drowned out by a sudden pained noise from the engine. 'What was that?' The car moaned again.

'I really hope it's not what I think it is...' Rochelle muttered, eyes widening a little. There was a squeal from the gears and they slowed down a little, followed by a popping noise as the car slammed to a complete halt.

'Please tell me you just hit the breaks, Francis,' she pleaded.

'Nope... well, this is just great.'

She heaved another heavy sigh, leaning forward to look at the bonnet over the biker's shoulder. A thin trickle of smoke was leaking from it. Nick pinched the bridge of his nose, not even bothering to open his eyes.

'I guess we blew something,' she concluded. She nodded to herself, trying to keep optimistic. 'No, no, it's okay... either of you guys know how to work with cars?'

'Do I look like I can?' Nick droned.

'I'm more of a bike guy...'

The three locked eyes for a moment, and the sole solution was clear. Nick gave a reluctant snort but Rochelle shook her head in a manner that told them there was no other option.

Francis hated pushing.

Luckily after the better part of twenty minutes the three decided it was useless to even try. It was starting to rain lightly. They were virtually stranded, and the lack of streetlights on the deserted highway did nothing to help. The darkness made them testy (well, testier than usual) and less communicative. Nick had pulled a deck of cards from his pocket and was shuffling them over and over again, while Francis leaned on the side of the car and looked around with a slightly fabricated air of laziness.

'I see something ahead,' Rochelle said suddenly. Sure enough, headlights pierced the darkness far ahead like an eerie pair of staring eyes. 'Maybe they can help.'

'At this time of night?' Nick replied. 'Odds are they're either serial killers or... well, people like you...' He shot Francis a sneer.

'Or some asshole who'd, I don't know, con some innocent people out of-'

Rochelle cut Francis off by thrusting her arms in the air and waving the approaching vehicle down. 'Hey! A little help here, please!' The beat-up car slowed to a stop a little way off, and the door opened quickly before a baseball hat become visible in the shadows.

She gave a sharp intake of breath and took an involuntary step forward as the figure stepped into the light, gaze fixed on Rochelle's car.

'You folks alright? Saw the smoke a little while back, and I was headin' this way anyways so... I mean, ya'll are in luck, cos I make a livin' as a mechanic.'

'Do you now?' Francis' gruff voice sounded from the other side of the car. Rochelle took a few more experimental strides forward, and raised a hand in an attempt to stop the rain getting in her face.

'Ellis?'

**Burger Tank, Fairfield, 02: 55 AM**

'Thank God for twenty-four seven fast food chains,' Zoey said mildly as she watched Louis demolish his meal across the booth from Bill and herself. Never one to complain, she hadn't quite noticed how little of the hospital food he had actually eaten in his few days there, due to both loss of appetite from the excitement and distaste for the rubbery substance.

Bill's brow was furrowed in thought, and she had quickly learned that whenever the older man was thinking he wasn't up for conversation. So she continued to drum her fingers along the shiny surface of the table, wondering when her car would return from Georgia.

'I know this is probably getting old, but...' she trailed off, half-laughing, and swirled the remains of her soda around in its cup.

'What?' Louis asked immediately.

'Tell me again what you guys can remember?'

Bill showed no inclination of wishing to go first, so Louis thoughtfully swallowed a mouthful. 'Nothing was really... I don't know, in order I guess you could say. At least I can't remember it being that way. When I dreamed, everything was just snippets of what happened, but it was clear. I could remember you two, and Francis. I don't remember how anything ended. Everything that happened was there, just jumbled. Like...'

'Like when we finally got a chopper out of that hell hole and the pilot went and turned on our asses.' Bill finished.

'You shot him,' Louis informed Zoey. 'Only Francis didn't let up about it til the cows came home.'

Zoey gave a frustrated groan. He gave her a questioning look, and she rolled her eyes. 'I take a complete level in badass, killing a zombie helicopter pilot as we fall to the ground in a death spiral and I don't get to remember it. Now that's just not right.'

Louis chucked. 'Your turn, Bill.'

'Oh, more or less the same.' Bill said airily. 'I think a little clearer by the sound of it, but it hardly matters. Oh, and dying.'

'What was it like?' Zoey asked, regretting the question moments after voicing it. Her morbid fascination had gotten the better of her. If Bill was offended, however, he didn't show it.

'Painful but quick,' was his blunt response. Louis didn't look up- it was clear THAT part of his dream had been plenty vivid. Uneasy guilt seeped across his usually cheery features.

'You shouldn't have done that for me, man.'

'What's done is done,' Bill smirked, though not unkindly.

'_Was _done, you mean...' Louis smiled tightly.

'Right.'

Zoey placed her hand over her heart and gave a mock-emotional sigh. 'Someone pass me the Kleenex. Back to the topic at hand, this whole 'amnesia thing' is getting boring pretty fast. I mean...' She stuttered for a moment before raising her hands imploringly. 'Death spiral, people!'

Louis shrugged. 'I don't know, maybe you're just one of those people who don't remember their dreams.'

'Well you know what? I'm sick of it,' she snapped firmly. He blinked. 'And you know what else? I'm not gonna put up with it much longer, because I'm going to _do _something about it.'

Saying so, she lifted her satchel from beneath the table and set ion her lap heavily, rifling through the contents before pulling out a battered blue-green book. She slammed it down for them to read the title.

'Got this at the library on my Bill-hunt.'

There was a brief silence as the two men studied the cover before raising their eyes to one another, and then finally to Zoey.

'Zoey.' Louis said slowly. 'This might just be crazy enough to work.'

**A Highway, 02. 58 AM**

'Well, I'll be _damned!_'

Rochelle's ribs still ached from the utter zeal with which Ellis had hugged her. Of course, at first he'd blabbered for about ten minutes straight, none of which they could fully understand. He was overexcited, and clearly as bewildered as they were, yet none of this could take away from his trademark enthusiasm.

He'd jumped at Nick for a hug at first too, though the con man had merely shot him one of _his _trademark 'are you insane?' looks and the young man had quickly stepped back, puzzled.

'What crawled up your ass, Nick?'

'Am I supposed to know this guy?'

Francis had slapped Ellis on the shoulder (the mechanic, though well-built, had actually buckled) and shook his head. 'It's kind of a weird thing...'

The rain was growing worse, and the four had now taken shelter in the parked car to talk. Ellis was still so astounded by the chances of them running into each other Rochelle worried he might start hyperventilating. She filled him in on their plan to find he and Coach in Savannah, and when asked about his reason for traveling this way, he laughed.

'Ro, girl, you ain't gonna believe this... You remember that Zoey chick from the bridge in Rayford, right?'

When he finished Rochelle's mouth was open with the madness of it all. Francis smirked at her expression, and Nick looked away nonchalantly- talk of people he didn't know failed to interest him.

'Ellis... I think you're our ticket to rounding everyone up, you know that? I'm gonna give you my cell phone number- once you reach Fairfield and find her, you're gonna call me and we'll work more out. Okay?'

'Yes ma'am.' He smiled brightly. 'Shit man, I can't believe how lucky I am to run into you guys...'

'Ellis, sweetie, if you can fix this car, we're the lucky ones.'

Ellis chuckled, looking at the spatters of rain that hit the windshield with loud thunks every few seconds. 'Oh, hey hey, you know what this reminds me of? 'Member when we was in the Jimmy Gibbs Junior and... you do remember the Jimmy Gibbs Junior, right?'

'I remember.' Rochelle confirmed with a grin.

Ellis looked hopefully at Nick who returned his gaze, coldly surveying the Georgian. 'Nick, I cannot believe you can't think back! I mean, we were bros! We went to Kiddyland, we fought zombies while playin' in a concert, there was that time you forgot the gun bag on the boat an'-'

'Maybe save it for when he can recall some stuff, sweetie.' Rochelle interrupted kindly. 'C'mon, let's see if you can take a look at the engine, okay?' She and Ellis climbed out of the car, closing the doors behind them and bristling as the rain hit their bodies.

'Well, look who's travelin' with the awesome biker guy who totally had a crush on her way back when,' Ellis chimed straight away. Rochelle could only laugh and shrug.

'We... kind of ran into each other. Sort of a long story.'

They pried open the bonnet and Ellis hunched over to take a look, checking the nooks and crannies with an expert's touch. She shivered and watched him, hoping to God that the problem was something he could fix here and now. Finally he straightened up.

'For a pro like me? Piece of cake.'

She breathed a sigh of relief and he crossed to his own car to retrieve his tool case. The rain, though not particularly heavy, was falling in large and frequent drops, steadily soaking them. Ellis came back, setting the box down.

'You go on and get inside, Ro. This won't take long and you don't havta get wet out here.' She smiled at him appreciatively and returned to the warmth.

Nick and Francis were, of course, squabbling about something or other as she threw herself into the driver's seat, rubbing her arms viciously.

'Hey, question.' Nick said.

'Yeah, shoot.'

'Back, uh... back when the whole country had gone to hell, was I _really _buddies with that hillbilly?'

Rochelle's sombre expression cracked suddenly as she fought to keep a straight face. Francis, having seen just enough of what Nick and Ellis were like around one another, also sniggered.

'What?'

'Oh yeah...' Rochelle shook with restrained laughter. 'You two were just... you were just the best of friends...'

Nick found his answer in her sarcasm and leaned back in his seat, raising an eyebrow. 'Yeah. I thought so.'

* * *

A/N: A huge thank youuu for all of the lovely reviews and thoughts! You guys are awesome. Some rather interesting stuff this chapter, though not a huge amount happened... The action should pick up rather a lot within the next few chapters, and also the answer to 'what the hell is going on?' will be answered, though that'll be far from the end. I assume people also have an idea about what Zoey's book is now too, yeah?

Hope you guys are enjoying! :) Lots of character interaction going on in this installment, something I love doing so while this chapter was a bit meh with stuff going on, it was also a bit yay for that. Forgive if this you didn't like this chapter- it's almost one in the morning and I just finished it now, because I really wanted to get it up tonight. xD

A review would be wonderful. :D


	6. To Trust Me

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Six: To Trust Me

* * *

**A Highway, 03: 41 AM **

The woods that lined the highway rustled faintly in the cool night-breeze. The rain had been reduced to sparse, gentle drops, hitting the gravel with an almost sickly sound. Above the moon was relatively new, and even when it managed to free itself of the wispy cloud's cover it's light seemed almost feeble.

Rochelle pulled Ellis into a quick hug, breathing a sigh of relief that he had so easily managed to fix the issue with the engine. For the first time in the last few days, everything seemed to be working out okay, though she inwardly hoped those thoughts wouldn't jinx anything.

'We'll see you real soon, okay honey? Once you go find Zoey, we'll work everything else out from there. We'll make some sense of this bullshit.'

'Sure we will,' the young man beamed irrepressibly, dragging the car door open and place one foot inside. 'Thats what friends are for, right? Killin' zombies and solvin' mysteries.'

Francis bumped fists with Ellis, expression amiable. 'See ya, kid.' Ellis then turned to Nick, but seemed to get distracted by some niggling thought at the back of his mind.

'Ya know...'

'Hm?'

'This totally reminds me of the time me an' my buddy Keith broke down outside a gator park. I mean, you don't think those sons'a bicthes would have it in 'em to come right up to a truck, and all we had was some duct tape and shit, but-'

'Okay, thanks, bye now.' Nick butted in, closing the car door and drowning out the mechanic's words. 'Jesus,' he muttered as the car hurtled off into the darkness. 'Three stories in less than an hour. Gabby little spit-fuck. You sure he ain't got a mute button or something?'

'Hey,' Rochelle admonished. 'Give the kid some credit- he survived the end of the world. Plus I recall that he saved YOUR fancy ass many a time.'

'Yeah, well I'd bet a hand on the fact that I probably rescued you during more than a few instances, sweetheart.'

'Something I, unlike you, appreciate,' she said with an air of triumph. Nick looked vaguely amused by the banter, whereas Francis, bored, began to lead the way back to the black car.

'Can we please haul ass?'

Rochelle nodded, starting after him. 'I think we've kept Coach waiting long enough.'

**Fairfield University, Dorm 4D, 06: 05 AM **

'Are you sure about this?' Louis asked for the umpteenth time, resting his head on a fist as he watched Zoey flip feverishly through the book, eyes skimming across the pages, taking in the bare essentials.

_Repression: A Guide to Recovering Memories _

'It's the only chance I've got to do this,' she replied. 'So I really, really hope so.'

He signed in a resigned kind of way and ran a hand over his smooth head, allowing her to scan for another few seconds before puncturing the silence again. 'So how does it work? I'm not exactly a physcologist, Zo. I mean, shouldn't we at least wait until Bill's back?'

Zoey shook her head. 'Let him get some rest.'

'He's tough, though- he can take it. I've seen him take it.'

Zoey shot him a small glare. 'This is exactly what I mean.' She closed the book and placed it flat on the table between him, her air suddenly businesslike again. 'Okay. Here's what we've gotta do, so listen up Louis. Numero uno, I need to get really relaxed, but not sleep. Sort of like hypnosis, only with breathing and shit like that. Got that?'

'I... yeah.' Louis was dubious, but judging by the way the girl's jaw was set there would be no talking her out of this. He eyed the cover of the book- it looked tacky, probably written by some type who 'specialized' in physic readings and such mumbo jumbo.

'Then I need you to describe the most vivid thing you can remember, with as much detail as you can. What's clearest?'

Louis leaned forward in his chair, elbows resting across his knees as he thought hard. He considered the time Zoey had basically been pounded to a pulp by a Charger with a particularly bad attitude. The heart-stopping silence of the cornfields, their encounter with another group from Georgia during their time in Rayford. The not-quite dried blood that streaked the hallways of Mercy Hospital, congealed and dark and...

He shivered, and looked down at Zoey. She was crouched on the floor near a bedpost, hugging her knees as they tucked up beneath her chin. Her breath was growing steadier, a rhythmic in-two-three-out-two-three that told him she hoped he had something by now.

'You're, uh... you're in a helicopter.' He began uncertainly. 'You've just been taken off the roof of Mercy Hospital, and the relief is... it's... you're so relieved that you can barely breath. The Tank back on the building is still yelling, we can hear him, but none of it matters anymore because we're done. We're safe.' He smiled vaguely at the memory, and bit it back as he thought ahead.

Zoey gave a tiny, indistinct grunt. Her eyes didn't open, but her brow remained smooth and devoid of signs of distress.

'And the pilot, he just keeps talking,' Louis chuckled quietly. 'It's like he's more excited to have picked us up than we were to be picked up, but he says we're his last run because he ain't feeling so great. And then... he coughs.'

'Mm.'

'No one really notices it at first... but then Bill starts staring at him. And he's frowning while this guy just keeps coughing. Worse and worse. He's trying to focus on flying the chopper but he gives this sort of... I don't know, gag. And when he finally looks up and back at us... it's like nothing you've ever seen before, so up close.'

'Then what?' Zoey murmured. He looked down briefly. She looked as though she could have been nodding off, but there was something about her face that told him she was in a very different place. He took a small breath and continued.

'His eyes are bloodshot. Really bad. Suddenly he gags again at a whole load of bile shit comes out, but it doesn't matter so much because next thing, Zoey, he attacked us. Francis, to be more exact. The chopper's starting to go nuts around us, and the noise of the pilot screaming and the propellers is so _loud. _So Francis is trying to get this guy the hell off him, but...'

'But we were too shocked to do anything.' Zoey finished in nearly a whisper. Her eyes were still shut and she looked almost like she was in a trance of some sort, shaking slightly as though cold.

'What? Yes! Go on, what else?' Louis encouraged.

'And it felt like I'd just woken up... like everything up til then had been a movie. Or a dream. So I got my pistol and I... I shot him. But by then we couldn't do anything, because we were stuck. We were going down and there was nothing, _nothing_ we could do to stop it. So we had to fall. We had to let ourselves fall.'

She was shaking badly now. Louis reached out, concerned, and placed a comforting hand on a wrist that was locked so tightly around her legs. 'I think you got it, girl.' She grinned up at him weakly, face flushed and eyes hazy. She looked like she'd just run a marathon.

'Yeah. I got it. I remember the death spiral. And...' she broke off, staring off into space.

It was there. All of it. Like an untapped well inside her, like the ruins of a city yet to be discovered. Too much at once.

_Boomer._

_Bridge._

_Hunter. Copy paper. Smoker. God is dead. _

Oh God. She was dizzy. So, so dizzy.

'Eurika,' Zoey giggled sluggishly.

'Zo? Zoey? You okay? Zoey-'

There was a clunk as her eyes closed once more and she loosened her limbs, slipping gratefully into a dead faint.

**Save 4 Less Convenience Store, Savannah, Georgia, 08: 53 AM**

The typical Savannah heat blistered the black surface of Rochelle's car. The sun had barely risen but it's warmth had hit them with a grueling force. Inside she, Francis and Nick were getting thoroughly baked; even with the windows down it felt stuffy and stagnant. It surmised that intense heat did, in fact, make Nick even more irritable than usual.

'If you'd told me we were comin' down to Hicksville I wouldn't have worn this suit.'

'Yeah, because we were so worried about your body temperature when we _kidnapped _you.' Francis replied.

'I'm not even going to-'

'Just wait,' Rochelle said as she took a space in the lot of the store. 'One day we will look back on this, and we just might laugh. Maybe. Not likely, but maybe.'

'I'll look back on this and laugh, alright. I'll laugh at the shiner I gave him.'

Rochelle allowed herself a small chuckle. Sure, the bickering was frustrating as hell, but sometimes she thought it she didn't laugh at their words she'd scream instead, and that would get them nowhere. Especially considering it would more likely than not just amuse them both.

'Bluemont's just around the block. We should get going.'

Admittedly, it was a funny sight as the three hurried up the steps of the highschool- the gruff biker, the griping man in an expressive suit and the small dark woman playing mommy. Near the door a few students leaned against a rail, watching with a bored kind of interest.

'That vest is murder, man!' One of them crowed with a typical redneck drawl. Francis snorted, not bothering to turn around. 'Hippy freak.'

The secretary's eyes flickered back and forth between the trio suspiciously behind her horn-rimmed glasses. She opened her mouth to speak and Nick died a little inside once more- another Southern lilt.

'Can I help ya'll with anythin'?'

'We're here to see, uh...' Rochelle's stomach dropped what felt like a foot inside her. His name. Oh, this could not be happening. She didn't know his name. Damn that man and his adaptable nickname. She smiled sweetly at the secretary, praying internally that she wouldn't be questioned. '... the football coach.'

'Can I ask the nature of yer business?'

'Personal,' Nick said quickly. Rochelle glanced up to his face; his eyes were narrowed, not quite dangerously but bordering on something close. The woman didn't seemed affected, but a moment later she seemed to notice just how strong the man behind them looked- this biker had to be at least six foot five, and was that a gang sign she spied on his arm?

'He'll, uh... he'll be in the faculty lounge in somethin' like twenty minutes,' she said decisively. 'Ya'll can wait there, but we don't want no trouble. Here, these're customary.' She handed them three visitor passes and then turned away dismissively.

They were waiting less time than they'd thought for Coach to enter. He didn't see them at first, instead pausing to speak warmly with a woman in her thirties, presumably another staff member.

'Here's here.' Rochelle hissed, peeking up from the small coffee table the three of them had congregated around. Nick looked over lazily. 'The one in the FHS shirt?'

'Bingo.' She passed the others a look and left her place by the table, crossing the lounge and successfully intercepting the large man's attention as he and the teacher went separate ways. She smiled tentatively.

'Long time no see, Coach.'

The older man exhaled deeply, and for a moment his gaze was alien, unreadable. Then he shook his head ruefully and a chuckle rumbled up. 'How you been, girl?'

Relief that Coach wasn't suffering an issue like Nick's flooded her. She turned around to face he and Francis and gave a quick thumbs up. Coach followed her gaze and raised a hand in greeting when he spotted them. Nick merely looked away and Francis called out, his voice just a fraction too loud.

'Ro! Your dad remembers, right?'

Rochelle lowered her head slightly in embarrassment and signaled for Coach and the other two to follow her outside.

'Some things never change,' Coach retorted, only a little disgruntled.

**Fairfield University, Dorm 4D, 09. 12 AM **

'And what about the crying ones?' Bill asked.

'Witches,' Louis supplied. 'Francis always used to say he'd-'

'Give those bitches something to cry about.' Zoey beat him to it and grinned as she downed another gulp of hot coffee. Bill had returned an hour or so previously to find a worried Louis trying to keep Zoey calm as she muttered gibberish. The rush of memories, so powerful and so trying, had been almost too much for her to take. Luckily with Bill's help she had relaxed some and though she still seemed a little disorientated, her information all seemed rather clear. There was still, however, a look of vexation about her and her movements were jerky and nervous.

'Do you remember where everything ends?' Louis questioned, interested.

'I... nope.' Zoey responded, cupping the mug in her hands. 'It's... jumbled. Like you said.'

'Yeah. That's okay.' He nodded and she dropped her eyes, tired.

'What gun did you try to use most of the time?' Bill continued to quiz, testing her knowledge. She bit her lip in thought for a moment before placing her cup on the floor beside her. 'Dual pistols, I think.'

'Think you can still remember how to work them?'

'No idea,' she sighed. 'Haven't exactly had the chance.'

Bill began to voice another question, but it was drowned out by a sudden series of almost frantic taps on the door. 'Friends of yours, Zoey?' he inquired. The girl shook her head, and nodded at Louis giving him permission to get the door. He did so, and a dumbfounded look filled his features.

'E-Ellis?'

'Who?' Bill said from the back of the room.

'Louis, man, can you believe it?' Ellis rushed, grabbing the older man by the shoulders and shaking him a few times. 'Man is it good ter see you!'

Stunned, Louis laughed. 'T-this is unbelievable. Ellis, how did you...?'

'I'll s'plain in a mo, bro, I didn't think you'd be here! Where's Zoey?'

Upon hearing her name, she pushed herself up from where she still sat on the carpet and stepped into view. The boy's face split into a huge, genuine grin once he saw her, and somewhere in the back of her mind the face flashed. She knew this guy, this Ellis as Louis called him. It was there, just not totally clear.

'H-hey girl!' Ellis crowed happily. She smiled back uncertainly. Why did he seem nervous?

'Have we met?'

Ellis's smile drooped a little at that, and Louis quickly explained the situation to the boy. He nodded, seemingly still a little puzzled, but the cheery look never left his face.

'Anyone wanna fill in the old-timer who may or may not be going senile?' Bill quipped, and Louis turned to him to dish out yet another explanation. Ellis however approached Zoey and adjusted his hat.

'So did ya... miss me?'

'Uh... should I have?' she answered, a little ashamed that her memory was taking so long to kick in.

'Thing is... you and I... we was kinda seein' each other, back before I mean. That time we met on the bridge, I'm tellin' ya, it was like love at first sight... the other four seconds was gravy.' Ellis looped an arm around Zoey's shoulders, looking around brightly. He was a horrible liar, but having caught his attention shot Louis a 'play along' look.

Zoey half-laughed at his transparent words and stepped away, blushing. 'Stop kidding around, dude.'

Ellis rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. 'It was worth a shot!'

Louis and Bill exchanged a look, noting the the mechanic's and the college student's looks of adoration and of obliviousness respectively. Kids.

* * *

A/N: Eeks, yay! I'm going on vacation for a couple of days tomorrow morning so I was determined to get this chapter up for you guys tonight. :) I really quite like this chapter actually, because it's the first one every character as appeared in! Yaaay!

So Zoey now remembers mostly everything. And the epic quest to find Coach has been resolved. If anyone's wondering about why Coach didn't remember a few chapters back, my basic idea was that while everyone else had the dream over one night, Coach had several so it was a gradual realization. :D Yeah. And lots of Ellis goodness.

Next chapter will include a little action, if my plan goes right. Also, here's a random insight for you guys to speculate on. At this moment in the story, two characters are hiding something. Ooh.

A review would be appreciated like crazy, and a massive thank you to all who've commented already- you make me smile. :)


	7. Dissolving

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Seven: Dissolving

* * *

**Dorm 4D, Fairfield University, Fairfield, 10:03 AM**

'... an', an' guys, you ain't gonna believe this, but it was Ro! Rochelle, the girl I was travelin' with back when the world was endin'. An' she was with Nick, 'cept Nick was havin' some problems so he was pretty cranky, an' I mean Nick's usually cranky... but this time he was really bad. Oh, oh, and they was goin' to find Coach in Savannah with that big guy in the vest who I saw ya'll with when-'

'Francis?' Bill asked suddenly. Somewhere during the process of Ellis' story about how he had found himself here, the other three's attention had begun to wane. Zoey was currently plucking at a loose thread on her red sleeve and though Louis continued to nod at random intervals, his eyes had obtained a glaze-over look that told Bill he wasn't fully alert.

'Yeah, man, that was his name!'

Louis took a moment to let the information stew in his mind before he frowned, glancing up. 'How... how the hell did he end up on his way to Georgia with them?'

Ellis shrugged benevolently. 'Beats me. So anyways, when I told Ro I was on my way to find you guys, she told me to call 'er straight away so's we can all get together and try to work shit out.'

'Makes sense to me,' replied Bill. He took in the mechanic for a moment. He was young, probably not too much older than Zoey, with a hapless grin and a sunny attitude that didn't appear easily shaken. For a moment he wondered how in God's name the boy had been among the last fighting against the infected, but then he supposed the same could be said for just about any of them. All in all, a voice like a drill to the eardrum, but not a bad kid.

'Did they say whether they were comin' to Fairfield or if we should head out to them?' he asked after another beat of quietness.

Ellis screwed his face up in thought for a moment, then shook his head no. 'Don't recall her specifyin' it.'

'Then call this lady now,' the older man instructed. His tone was practiced, plainly authoritative. 'And make sure to tell her that we'll get to them down there. If anything, we can meet 'em halfway, but no more. Not in Fairfield. Understood?'

'Yessir.' Ellis tossed the cell phone he'd borrowed from Louis into the air and caught it again, hoisting himself up to make his call in the hallway.

Louis hesitated until the door had clicked behind him to turn gradually to Bill, who was staring straight ahead, perhaps thinking about the other survivors he had yet to meet. On second thoughts, it didn't seem like something Bill would care much about- either way, he was deep in reverie. He blinked a few times, mind whirring, and finally spoke up. 'What was that all about, huh?'

'What was what all about?' was his sole response.

'"Not in Fairfield, even halfway from Fairfield, just not here!" That's what.' The younger man's tone wasn't suspicious, but simply puzzled. Bill was thinking about something, something Louis wanted in on, be it a plan or a complication to be aware of.

Zoey, only half listening, wound the stray string around her index finger, watching as the tensed skin turned off-white before gently releasing it.

'Bill, somethings up and there's no point pretending you don't know what I'm talking about, 'cos you do. Can't get any more confused than we are, so don't worry.' Louis raised his eyebrows expectantly and gave a little flourish. 'So spill.'

The veteran exhaled deeply through his nose, raising his eyes to observe his comrades. 'When I was at home, getting some rest... around the time when you made Zoey remember, when I wasn't here...'

'What? What is it?'

Bill's eyes were grim. 'Either of you seen the morning paper today?'

**11 River Street, Savannah, Georgia, 12:06 AM **

In Rochelle's opinion, the addition of Coach to the group was something desperately needed and she welcomed it with open arms.

She wished the same could be said for Nick- still unable to recall just how many times this man had once saved his life, he was still full of distrust and ready to spout any number of patronizing comments if anyone such much as looked at him the wrong way. She could tell he was growing frustrated with his inability to remember past events, and so was lashing out more than usual. Still, the ex-football player had better luck with silencing the con man's snaps than she did most of the time.

The interior of Coach's house was exactly as she'd expected- well furnished, though cluttered with pictures and prizes from the glory days. She had peeked up into the overflowing glass trophy case with interest- while football wasn't something that overly appealed to her, she'd seen the sports corner enough times on the news broadcast to know what was impressive.

Coach had vanished off into the kitchen some twenty minutes back with the promise of lunch before the plotting could truly begin. Francis was slouching in an armchair, arms crossed across his chest in a light slumber while Nick examined an award nearby, presumably trying to estimate its worth. Rochelle paused by the mantel and reached up, bringing down a framed photograph.

Behind the well-maintained glass pane, four faces glowed. Three laughing young boys, the eldest no older than ten, had been captured in their moment of hilarity as they sprawled across a picnic blanket. The second-biggest clutched in his arms a tiny baby girl who waved her chubby fists at the camera, stretching out to the photographer with a look of adoration.

Coach lumbered back into the room, a tray of food in hand. He set it down and leaned over Rochelle's shoulder, smiling as he noted her discovery.

'You got kids?' whispered Rochelle with a faint grin, the better not to wake Francis.

'Proud daddy o' those four clowns,' Coach confirmed. 'Only they certainly ain't babies anymore- youngest is Tia, an' she left for college this year.'

'You never mentioned you were married,' she added, setting the frame carefully back into place.

Coach nodded heavily, a little sigh surfacing as his face turned more solemn. 'Stella died a big nine years ago now.'

She paused and then nodded, his statement half-expected and still hitting home at once. 'M'sorry, Coach.' And she was.

'Don't you worry, little sister. The past ain't no place to dwell in.' He squeezed her shoulder and looked down into her face with such warmth she was compelled return his smile with understanding before sitting down to eat. 'Oh, and Nick,' Coach called suddenly. 'If you so much as think 'bout pocketin' one o' those valuable trophies, boy, I will break your fingers.'

Nick coolly set a plaque back down, faintly offended but openly too indifferent to bother responding.

_Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

There was a series of automated musical notes as Rochelle heard her cell phone begin to ring. She dug a hand into her back pocket and, ignoring the highly amusing face Francis made as he jerked awake at the sound, pressed the cell to her ear eagerly.

'Hello?'

_'Ro, hey, it's Ellis here. Now I found these folks like you told me to, and boy do-' _

'That's perfect, honey. Who'd you get a hold of?'

_'Well I found Zoey- man, I just knew I couldn't have dreamed up a girl that beautiful... Anyway, Louis- he was the guy with the leg if you don't know- he's here too, plus Bill.' _

'Bill?' she said, unsure. She made brief eye contact with Francis, who was listening closely, as were the others. 'The guy who was...'

_'Yup, can you believe it? The fella was dead before. D-E-A-D. I'm glad he's here now though, 'cos he's pretty bad ass, in my opinion...' _On the other end of the line Ellis trailed off, something he didn't generally do unless he was cut off or distracted. _'Rochelle?'_

'Yeah?'

_'I think I'mma have to run, girl. They're lookin' for me ter... Yeah, I'll be right there, jus' gimme two seconds... Ro, we're gonna meet ya'll halfway. You just head out from Savannah and we'll meet you on the route, say near North Carolina, you got that? Okay?'_

'Yes, that's fine- we can do that. But Ellis, what's got you-' Rochelle's concern was drowned out by the beep of a dial tone. She bit her lip, bemused, and flipped her cell closed as she met the three vastly different gazes boring into her.

'What merry Goddamn dance does Elliot want to lead us on now?' Nick asked blackly, thoroughly sick to his teeth with the whole business.

'Kid's called Ellis, Nick.' Coach corrected.

'He could be called Mariah Carey and he'd still be as annoying.'

'Let the lady talk, Suit.' Francis commanded bluntly, still half-awake as he straightened up in his seat. He looked pointedly at Rochelle, who pocketed the phone again and began to fill them in.

'He got to Fairfield just fine- found Zoey and Louis too- and Francis... you might wanna know that your pal Bill is up and at it again.' Francis gave a gruff snort, and it was apparent he'd guessed as much. She sat back and continued, words almost indefinite. 'And they want us to meet up with them in North Carolina.'

'Everythin' okay, Rochelle?' Coach asked after a second.

'Yeah- no, it's fine. He just sounded distracted is all.'

**Dorm 4D, Fairfield University, Fairfield, 12:25 PM **

_'... and while sources have indeed made claims expressing the belief that the disease highly contagious, thus far there have been no concrete answers as to whether the illness is spread through direct contact with sufferers or is airborne. Just this morning the seventh confirmed case has been diagnosed in Albuquerque, New Mexico and witnesses have stated that the woman's condition seemed "frenzied and pained, like the madness of a rabid dog". More on this as it develops.' _

The small TV cut to advertisements, and Zoey reached out and pressed the mute button without a second thought. She shook her head and looked up at her friends, gradually focusing on Bill.

'So you knew about this? Since you went home last night? Jesus Bill, you coulda-'

'I didn't tell you right away because you would have panicked,' he interrupted. 'Which, judging by the way your hand is shaking, you are. A little fear can be good, gets the blood flowin', but panic- you can't work with panic.'

She didn't have much to say to that, and clenched her fist to stop it's quivers, but then the light of another question flickered in her eyes. 'This is why you asked me if I could remember how to shoot earlier.'

Bill nodded once.

'And we can't meet the others here in Fairfield,' Louis noted. Another nod. 'But Bill, man, we don't know if this thing was limited to Fairfield to start with, do we? And the pickup of everything took a while to start getting really bad...'

'I don't wanna take any chances. We do know that Fairfield was one of the worst districts at the time- if you two can remember, Rayford had nothing on it.'

Unable to argue with the reasoning, Louis nodded and then shook his head a couple of times, still shell shocked from the news and by how quickly the were adapting to it.

Zoey gave a nervous laugh, short, but quickly starting up again as something almost bordering on hysterical, and the other two looked at her. 'I... I, uh... I don't know if I can do it this time. I'm still remembering stuff, in pieces- but it's not enough, is it?' Her head felt like it was going to explode. Too much to think about. Too much to consider. 'I know it's not gonna be enough. I won't be able... I can't...'

Ellis, who had been unusually silent for the past few minutes, left his position by the door and offered Zoey a hand to pull her up. She took it after a moment, and when he spoke his words were positive as ever.

'Girl, you kicked butt once without knowin' two shits about what was goin' on. All o' us did. Don't know 'bout you, but I think anyone who did it before can do it again, right?'

'Let's not plan ahead to that stage just yet,' Louis said. 'I mean... we got a while to go before the stuff gets out of hand...'

Bill and Zoey exchanged a small look at this. The disease seemed to be spreading more rapidly than before and was more spaced out, too. Seven initial cases would multiply like weeds if the infection was, in fact, airborne.

Zoey closed her eyes for a second tried not to think about it, troubled to the core.

**Oconee Nation Forest Outskirts, Georgia, 14: 28 PM **

'Did anyone see that?'

Coach slowed the car just enough to allow himself a glance back at Nick. The younger man's eyes were glued to the woodland that lined the road, his features more alert than they had been minutes ago. The oddity of the moment caused Coach to stop the car altogether, though no one protested.

'Nick?' Rochelle asked, leaning over his shoulder to peer out the window.

'I saw something.' His eyes narrowed, still scanning the thick trees for movement.

'We don't have time to play I Spy, Suit.' Francis grumbled, throwing his gaze back from the passenger seat. The con man didn't retaliate, something that seemed to worry the others to no end. Rochelle placed a hand on his arm, still searching the foliage for anything amiss. Something alien riddled Nick's usual air, something she couldn't name and wasn't familiar with seeing in him.

'Nick- what'd you see?' she began slowly. 'There's bears and stuff out here, I mean it's normal that-'

'It wasn't a bear,' he said. 'It was... I don't know what it was, but I'm gonna check it out.'

'Nicholas, you sure that's such a good-' But Coach didn't finish his sentence as Nick had already opened the car door and was standing, still and focused, by the slope where road became soft and muddy terrain. Dappled sunlight filtered through the canopy that was growing sparser by the day, giving him little see by.

'Hello?' he called, so sure he'd seen movement. 'Hey, is anyone out here?'

The effect of his words was instantaneous.

Out of the trees' shadow ahead lumbered a human. Well, perhaps humanoid would have been a better term, for this individual wasn't in prime shape. His movements were feverish and jerky, hands twitching as he gabbled something incomprehensible beneath his breath. His grey-white limbs showed beneath what appeared to be a mud-splattered hospital gown.

What Nick couldn't see was that the man's eyes were the faintest red- and that they settled on him in an split-second.

And without so much as another sound, the man gave a savage bellow and sprinted straight at him.

'Motherfu-' Nick turned around as the car horn sounded over and over again, a frantic signal to get back into the vehicle. Not quick enough, though- the creature was now level with him and with another choice swear his base instincts kicked in and he began to run.

Three car doors flew open as Coach, Francis and Rochelle threw themselves out. The two men hurried forward, praying the infected man would be easily taken down with brute strength, but he lunged at them, attention breaking away from Nick, and they fell back.

_'Get it to- no! Shit! Get back, get it away! Holy hell!'_

Rochelle was suddenly behind Francis. She snatched at his arm, nails digging in as she forced something into his hand. He tore his eyes away from the infected man to find her trembling face and the open car trunk in the background. In his grasp he clutched a baseball bat.

Coach shoved the man back, clammy flesh brushing his arm, and the creature again rounded on a bewildered Nick, claws outstretched.

He was almost on him when the wood of the bat made contact with the back of his head. The man faltered, swinging himself around with a furious roar, the the bat met his face three, four, five times. He collapsed as with a spout of blood his face caved in and with a final strike the creature became still.

Disposed of, like so many before him in the banks of their memories.

For a long moment, there was silence broken only by the panting of the exhausted four. Nick was running his hands through his hair, taking deep breaths as he tried to come to terms with the truth he'd been fed all along. Francis finally broke the stillness by tossing the bloodied bat to the ground with a clunk.

'Well that was just embarrassing,' he spat. 'That much trouble? With ONE vampire? It wasn't even one of the stro... urgh. If anyone asks, it was a Tank. And, uh... there were sixty of them.'

Coach chuckled, a wheezy and bleak sound, but Rochelle couldn't so much as crack a smile. She stepped forward, surveying the man's- the _zombie's_- broken body gingerly. How was this happening? _Why _was this happening?

'Rochelle.' Nick voiced from behind her. Her eyes didn't leave the bloody mess on the ground.

'Yeah?'

'Remember taking my gun away that time in the car?'

'Uh-huh.'

A fly was already zipping around the creature's brain matter.

'I think I'd like it back.'

* * *

A/N: Hm... yes. Issues with the infection, eh? Why is it starting up again? Why is Zoey so worried? Why am I asking questions in an ominous manner?

This chapter was fun to write. :) I pulled it together relatively quickly but I had it all mapped out in my mind anyway so it's all good. Thanks to everyone who's favourited, alerted and reviewed, and also to those who wished me a nice vacation- it was an awesome time.

On a final note- God, I really do love giving Nick the last word. :3

Reviews would be lovely, should you have the time.


	8. Life Makes Echoes

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Eight: Life Makes Echoes

* * *

There's a stillness about the streets, now.

Bodies litter the pavement akin to shattered china puppets, limbs lame and splayed across the hard ground, the dark liquid beneath them like an artistic flicker of oil paint.

Different places. Different faces.

What of them?

What of the faces?

* * *

**Oconee National Forest Outskirts, Georgia, 14: 40 PM**

'Well, damn... quick thinkin' back there, girl...' Coach commended as he huffed a steadying breath in and out with some effort.

'You play baseball?' Francis asked dubiously, having recovered from the encounter the fastest. 'You don't exactly strike me as the type.'

Rochelle blinked and bent to retrieve the gory bat from the ground, still unable to get past what had just happened. 'My... uh, my mom makes me carry it in the car. For protection.' She looked a little embarrassed, but Nick spoke up before the others could notice.

'What... in the name of all things good and sane... was that?' The con artist was a sight to behold- almost all of the colour had drained from his face and the spatter of blood he had yet to see on his pant leg made his white suit seem more familiar to Rochelle and Coach. Before it had been too pristine, too neat.

'That,' Francis smirked. 'is what we've been tryin' to tell you about all this time, brother.'

'How is this happening? You can't seriously be saying that it's starting all over again?' Rochelle said defiantly.

'That's sure what it looks like.' Coach bristled and glared into the tree line, struggling to make out any more threats hidden in the shade. A sparrow flitted from a bush and into the sunlight, scrounging on the ground for insects. 'There don't seem to be any more of 'em out here...'

'Common infected usually come in groups.'

'You know what? Let's not wait around and find out.' Francis stated firmly, turning his broad back on the corpse and striding back to the car. The others hesitated before Coach seemed to agree, following after him. 'We've got two guns and a bat in this car, and if there's any bastards out here that wanna try their luck... let 'em.'

Rochelle popped open the glove box and then leaned back, handing a still-pale Nick his handgun. 'No funny business, alright?'

'Define funny.'

'Nick...' Rochelle rolled her eyes. She checked with Francis to ensure that he too still had his pistol, and delicately placed the baseball bat at her booted feet in the passenger seat. The sooner they got away from these woods, the better. Coach turned the keys in the ignition and started the car.

Tried to.

Attempted to.

_Failed _to.

The engine gave a familiar strained noise, and a hush fell across the car like a leaden blanket as their stomachs dropped. Coach eventually twisted around to look evenly at the others, taking in their mute states. 'Somethin' I should know about this here car?'

Nick swallowed, and Rochelle could swear a vain was visibly pulsing in his forehead. 'Rochelle.' She acknowledged him with a grunt. 'Next time we see that Ellis kid... remind me to murder him with my bare hands, will you?'

**Dorm 4D, Fairfield University, Fairfield, 16:01 PM **

_'... authorities are recommending that people stay indoors and report anyone who displays characteristics of the infection immediately. Also being advised is precautionary action such as keeping hands well-washed and sealing windows with-' _

'What a load of crap,' Zoey muttered as Louis switched off the radio in disgust.

'We gotta high-tail it out of this city,' stated Bill firmly, taking a long drag from his cigarette as he observed the nearly deserted street below. It was dull weather out, and a lone newspaper gamboled down the sidewalk as though to accentuate the eerie stillness.

This was how it started.

Nothing extreme, just the slightest hint of confusion rippling through the city. Fear, even, though nothing compared to what would come later. Just a cold anxiety due to being under informed, feeling vulnerable, targeted. Lost.

Just the start.

Ellis joined him at the window, craning his next to get a better view of the student parking lot. 'Well I don't know 'bout you folk but we got a car, right? Brought it here just like Mr Marks asked, and boy is she runnin' smooth, I'll tell ya that.'

Zoey flashed him an appreciative smile that reached her eyes, just briefly, before going out like a candle. 'I think I'd feel a little better about this if we had some sort of weapons with us. You know, just in case things get ugly.'

'Zo, it's early days yet...' Louis consoled, giving her forearm a small squeeze. 'Things ain't getting like that just yet. Which is why we need to move fast, huh?'

'Both of you make a valid point,' Bill noted. 'So I propose we get a hold of some guns.'

'And then we mosey on off to North Carolina to the others, right? We'll get to the bottom of this dang thing, and it'll be dandy.' Ellis said eagerly.

Louis's mouth quirked into a rather uncharacteristic smirk and he leaned forward, rasping in an over-exaggeratedly aged voice, 'Son, let's not throw a party 'til we're out of the city.'

There was a beat as his eyes met Bill's, and the veteran looked at Zoey who in turn rolled her head around to Louis before bursting into an uncontrollable peal of laughter. Louis's mask seemed to crack as he too began to let go, the stress of the last few days seeming to evaporate if only for a moment. Even Bill's fixed expression twitched a few times as he struggled to retain to a little his composure.

Ellis's head seemed to spin as he took in each person's current state. His brow creased in befuddlement. 'I don't get it.'

**A Highway, 16: 15 PM **

'Stay close to the road, folks.' Coach warned as they hurried along. A strong breeze rustled the thickets of trees that lined either side of the road, making it impossible to pick out unusual movement.

'Look Captain Paranoia, we haven't seen a single one of them since back at the car.'

'Do you really want to jinx that, Mr I-Almost-Shit-My-Pants-Instead-Of-Killing-The-Vampire?'

'Can we just keep moving, gentlemen?' Rochelle butted in, temporarily reducing the bickering pair to silence. They had opted to travel ahead on foot rather than be potential sitting ducks in the stationary car, and while it was probably the lesser of two levels, she was uneasy. Francis and Nick both had their own guns on their person, and she had given Coach the bat, leaving herself with no available protection.

Which was just fantastic.

The wind whistled again, billowing her t-shirt slightly. Behind her Nick ran a hand through his hair with an irritated grunt, trying his best to force it to remain slicked back.

Francis, for once, seemed to be thinking along the same lines. 'I hate wi-'

The rest of his somewhat predictable statement was drowned out by a sudden ear-splitting keen that sounded from somewhere close. Somewhere too close. The four jerked around suddenly, their heartbeats seeming to cease for a moment or two before returning at a frightening rate.

'I guess I'm not the only one who heard that,' Coach muttered. 'Hunter, am I right?'

Francis and Rochelle nodded wordlessly. Rochelle stared deep into the forest, wringing the hands she was suddenly so unsure of what to do with for lack of a firearm. 'We have to pipe down. They'll hear us, they probably already do, so move it!' she urged.

They resumed walking with a renewed vigor, encouraged only by the occasional cackle, gag or hacking cough in the distance to be heard. Nick was becoming visibly on edge, gun gripped tightly by his side, and Coach took the lead. 'You know... it's a miracle none of 'em have heard us yet.'

'Guess we should count our blessings... not.'

'We ain't got time to count shit,' the older man replied in a low voice. 'I got no idea where this stretch ends so we could be here for a while.'

Nick sighed darkly, and the group quickened the pace again. 'Lead on, Macduff.'

Another cry ripped through the air.

**Holly Street Station, Fairfield, 17: 08 PM **

Louis shifted nervously, awaiting the arrival of the rest of the group. They had split up with the simple idea that it would be faster for each of them to take off to where they knew they could find useful items and meet up after. Now, however, he as beginning to doubt the plan- perhaps they should have at least gone in pairs.

He adjusted his hunting rifle on his back nervously, the windows lining the deserted street seeming to glare at him on the steps of the subway. Every so often he'd notice movement inside a building- the illness was far from active so far, and people remained holed up like CEDA's lab rats.

'You look tense.'

He did his best to suppress a shocked movement and turned, nodding at Bill. The old man had adopted the clothes he was so familiar with by now, and held an rifle casually in his hands.

'Aren't you?'

'I'd be a fool if I wasn't. But Zoey's got stuff on her mind- she hasn't been okay since she remembered, not a bit. Now, that Ellis kid is a few teacups short of the full set, so him we don't have to worry about, but you got to hold it together- if just for her. Understood?'

'Yes, sir.' He nodded again, the glint of tan that was Zoey's car making its way down the street catching his eye. As she exited and came closer he could see the med kit clanking by her side and the crowbar clutched in her hand. She laughed shortly and raised the object, twirling it around in her fingers before lowering it once more.

'Best I could do. This should work until we find a stash of more useful stuff somewhere though, right?'

'Right.'

Minutes passed as the three waited for Ellis to return. The more Louis contemplated it, the more it seemed like a horrible idea they'd concocted- _find stuff on your own, we'll save time! Yes Ellis, even you! Sure, you have no idea how to find your way around the city, much less find a gun, but what the hell!  
_

'You think we should go look for him?' Zoey nodded towards her car.

'Nah, just give him a few more-'

'Hey ya'll.'

Ellis had appeared behind them, through the steps of the underground. Judging by his condition, it was still safe down there- his clothes were perfectly clean and he didn't appear to have struggled whatsoever. Slung across his shoulder was a shiny new submachine gun, and proudly grasped in his hand...

He raised his find, a wicked grin spreading across his usually innocent features like a bush fire. Zoey clicked her tongue and tried not to smile with childish glee.

'A cattle prod? Ellis, do we even want to know...?'

'An _electric _cattle prod.' Ellis corrected.

Louis shrugged with a chortle. 'When life hands you lemons... zap some living dead with farm equipment.'

'Don't mind if I do.'

**Forest Outskirts, 17: 43 PM **

Coach, it surmised, was quick to learn that a long period without attack was something like a dry spell in a desert. The wait was frustrating, agonizing even.

And when it rained, it rained hard.

There had to be at least twenty of them, and certainly more hidden in the shadows of the woods. Their cries were guttural, savage, and there was no where to run, much less to hide. Francis and Nick stuck close to the unarmed Rochelle, who shoved and kicked whenever she could despite the little good it did. They were truly ungodly creatures, all soft clammy skin and bloody, torn lips. Coach slammed his baseball bat cleanly into the head of a female and she groaned loudly before being bashed again without mercy.

'Now THIS is more like it!' Francis bellowed with an almost joyous satisfaction. He blew away an infected man sporting a tattered forest-ranger's jacket with a bang.

A bang that very nearly drowned out the news producer's scream, but not quite.

Rochelle scrambled as she hit the ground, trying in vain to grab the biker's leg before the warm, moist tongue around her middle tightened and her body was scrapped painfully along the gravely road towards the tree line.

'Get it off me! Get this thing off!' she shrieked, arms still working violently to find something to hold. The tongue was too strong, too thick, however, and as the Smoker reared back an arm to slash at the woman it spluttered a loud, throaty cough-

-and proceeded to buckle backwards in a haze of eye-watering smoke and droplets of dark blood.

The group was thinning, and Francis strode forward, looking her up and down. She hurriedly adjusted the pink shirt that had been dragged up high enough to allow him to catch an eyeful of black lace. 'You look... tired.'

She straightened up, still panting, and forced out a dry response. 'Thank you, Francis, for politely saying I look like shit.'

'Actually, the whole tough chick thing really does it for me,' he countered suggestively.

Rochelle smirked, looking away. 'Let's not get too ahead of ourselves, huh?'

'When you two are done sweet-talking? I'd like to get the hell out of here!' Nick called. He delivered a firm blow to the mess that was the last zombie's still-quaking head. 'Candyass.'

There was a thud as Coach took out a Jockey that had been sailing through the air towards the con man's neck. It shrieked and tumbled to the ground, the single, well-aimed blow having done it's job.

'Little less time passin' jokes and a little more time watchin' your ass, Nicholas.'

* * *

A/N: Aw, Coach. :D I do love you. Any ideas as to what Zoey's problem is?

I liked and disliked this chapter in many different ways... more liked at the end of the day I think, though. There was some fun dialog thrown in, plus a little more action. A lot of it was mood-setting and plotting scenes too.

Well, what about you guys? Any favourite moments of the story so far, quotes you liked? What about stuff you'd like to see- interaction between particular characters, anything? :) I'm open to ideas as long as they don't interfere with what I have planed. Oh, on another note- all chapter titles are pretty much inspired by songs which I think suit the goings-on. I never really mention what ones, but if anyone's interested I'll certainly let them know which ones and why. They're actually rather in-depth.

Reviews would really, really be appreciated! :) I always try to respond to my reviews individually if I have the time. On that note, actually, my anonymous reviewers rock very much and it sucks that I can't directly respond, but just know that I do love to hear your thoughts, guys! (:

I'll do my best to update within the week!


	9. Heroes and Ghosts

I've Just Seen a Face 

Chapter Nine: Heroes and Ghosts

* * *

**A City Street, Pennsylvania, 20: 09 PM**

'So after, like, three hours Keith gives up tryin' to break the glass with his mind, ya follow? 'Cos it was goin' nowhere. Now, by this stage he's real mad that he wasted his time doin' that for so long, so he ends up kickin' it, BUT the glass bounces right into-'

'Ellis.' Zoey smiled at Ellis kindly over her shoulder from the driver's seat, cutting him off mid-gesture as he rattled on enthusiastically. 'Maybe you could continue this a little later?'

'But you do wanna hear it an' shit, right?' the mechanic asked hopefully.

'Sure.'

Bill took the golden moment of silence to make a swift suggestion. 'I'm thinkin' we lay low here for about an hour,' he said, eyes sweeping the again-deserted street. 'get some rest so we can try to make the rest of the journey in one go. May as well take the peace where it's offered.'

'Can't argue with logic like that,' Louis answered with a bleary blink. He stretched his still-casted leg slightly and gave a small wince. 'Anyone got any pills? I think it's seizing up again.'

'Think you'll be able to sleep?' Bill asked.

Louis shrugged with a faint chuckle. 'I doubt it.'

'Then you can take first watch.'

Sleeping within the confines of Zoey's dingy little vehicle would have proved difficult in most situations. It was small, poky, not truly befitting of the five-person seating it claimed to have. However, the quartet were tired from the emotional if not physical stress they had been subjected to recently, and Ellis quickly dozed off in the back seat, opposite a gun-toting Louis. Bill shortly followed him from the passenger seat, and finally Zoey's cheek pressed against the cold window as her eyes slid closed.

The last dream she'd suffered had involved Boomers and gunfire, and had vanished from her conscious mind as soon as she blissfully opened her eyes and realized she was late for class.

She wouldn't be so lucky this time.

It was dark on the street; the lamps had long been extinguished, and far above the clouds blotted out the moon like cigarette smoke, thick and warm and sickly. There was just blackness, here- blackness and heat. So much heat.

She clicked her flashlight on with a tiny noise, the beam slicing through the darkness like a knife through a gut. Intruding on the nothing. She was alone again.

'Hello?'

A yawning silence greeted her. She couldn't see a thing, the light doing little good, and reached out blindly as she began to walk, half-hoping someone might grab her hand to guide her. No one did. She felt sluggish, ill, drifting. The darkness bit at her eyeballs, but she kept walking.

Suddenly, something came from nothing; a call back, and one that made her heart leap and then sink again almost instantly.

'Hello?' But it meant nothing, because this was her own voice, a mirroring of words, an echo.

Still, the question left her dry lips stupidly. 'Who are you?'

For a moment she doesn't anticipate an response, but it did come back. Only introverted, and the meaning is somehow terribly different though the voice was the same. 'Who are _you_?' She wasn't so sure.

It was beginning to rain, running along the length of her bare arms. She would have been happy should it given her some sort of release from the thick and unyielding heat, but no such luck- the rain was warm. Hot, even.

Hot.

Zoey opened her mouth, tilted her head up and began to scream.

'ZOEY!'

'No... NO...'

'Zoey, open your eyes. We got you.'

'Who are you?' she choked out, forcing her eyes open. The semi-darkness of the car was almost as suffocating as the total black of the nightmare. She sucked in deep breaths, only vaguely aware of Bill and Louis' concerned stares and the way Ellis took her hand in his skittishly, trying to sooth it out of it's locked fist.

'You started twitching in your sleep,' Louis informed her warily. 'I, uh... I tried to wake you up and you flipped out.' Zoey nodded jerkily. 'I think I'm gonna throw up.'

She tumbled out of the car and clung loosely to the side mirror as she retched, bringing nothing up. She tried again, achieving the same result.

'You okay, Zoey?' Ellis muttered, all wide eyes as he exited the car also. 'Musta been pretty bad, huh?'

'Yeah,' she managed as she gulped down greedy lungful after lungful of the cool night air. 'Yeah. It kind of was.' She proceeded to gasp for another few seconds before becoming strangely aware of the silence that had befallen her friends. Through watered eyes she observed them as she straightened up, and followed their stunned gazes up the empty street.

Well. Almost-empty street.

Three zombies- only common infected, easily dealt with, but infected all the same- were charging towards them at a frenzied pace. Louis swallowed audibly and raised his rifle. 'I guess this is where it starts, huh?'

**Forest Ranger's Station, Oconee Forest, 20: 59 PM**

'Well,' Nick said delicately as the door slammed behind him, 'I think it's safe to say we're going to die.'

'Boy, you better start thinkin' positive else I'm gonna put my foot up your ass.' Coach snapped uncharacteristically.

Nick mulled over his words before raising his hands. 'Fine. We are going to die _quickly. _Better?'

Rochelle didn't lower her weapon like the others, but instead hurried a little deeper into the office-like cabin. The woody scent was pleasant; a stark change from the stench of rotten flesh and the metallic smell of blood that overpowered her clothes. Francis, following her lead, backed her up while plucking a burr from his goatee. 'I hate the great outdoors,' he muttered to himself.

'Anyone here?' Rochelle called expectantly. Her ears strained for movement or voice, and she frowned, eyes suddenly grim. 'Hello?'

Francis sensed her disappointment and brought down his gun to turn to her, the whole business of cheering up evidently something new to him. 'Hey! Maybe... they all went out for coffee.'

She raised an eyebrow, slackening her hold on the bat. 'At the same time?'

'... yeah.'

They returned to the entrance after ensuring the place was secure to find Coach in the midst of finishing a makeshift barricade for the door. Against it leaned a desk and three chairs, which shuddered ever so slightly as the infected outside pounded the wood in vain.

'Everybody doin' okay?' Coach asked finally.

'Sticks and stones,' Rochelle replied in a faux-airy tone. Everyone seemed to be in the best condition they could have hoped for; it appeared the worst wound anyone had obtained was the one to Nick's pride now that his white sleeve was hopelessly coated in bile.

'I'd feel a hell of a lot better if I was a little more educated on these bastards,' the con man huffed, irked with his lack of recollection once more. His expression grew even more peeved as he continued. 'Anyone wanna... uh... give me a crash course?'

'Probably a good idea,' Rochelle agreed. 'First though- anyone know what direction we just moved in? I mean, we're trying to get to North Carolina and once they showed up we just sort of... well... ran.'

'Gotta be a map or somethin' in here.' Francis rose from where he was slouched in a doorway and began to raid some cabinets unceremoniously. Nick, however, gave Rochelle a withering look she knew was usually reserved for the likes of Ellis.

'You're seriously still planning on going to meet up with the others? Don't mean to burst your bubble or anything sweetheart, but there are _zombies _out there. Have they even started evacuation?'

'Not yet, I think. If you could remember, Nick...' Coach said decisively. 'You'd know it's important we get to 'em. Whatever shit's going on here- they're at the heart of it. We gotta find them to work it out.'

Francis returned, slapping a folded map down onto a table. 'So I have no idea what we're talking about, but I'm on their side.' Nick rolled his eyes, not bothering to retort back, but Rochelle could see that somewhere inside he knew they were right, though was simply loath to admit it. Satisfied, she pushed the map away from her and took a seat on the patchwork couch opposite him.

'Now listen up. The fat one that puked on you? That was a Boomer...'

**Rettleburg Apartment Complex, Pennsylvania, 21: 46 PM **

'Anyone else sort of miss having Francis around for stuff like this?' Zoey chuckled slightly as the apartment door finally gave way, swinging back on it's hinges.

'For what? Brute strength or criminal experience?' Louis asked jokingly as he took in the empty place.

Usually he would have felt bad for squatting for a few hours like this, but given the zombie apocalypse was imminent, he found it considerably easier to swallow his morals. Far below and past the lobby doors on the street they heard a pained, inhuman bellow. Following this a muffled, barely audible voice said something in the apartment below them. It was obvious that many families had barricaded themselves into their homes with concern for their safety... and quite rightly so.

'You guys sure the car's okay down there?' Ellis said from behind him.

'We're not wasting too much time up here, that's for sure.' Bill replied. 'We're gonna eat, get some sort of plan together and haul ass, understood?'

'Roger that,' said the mechanic. 'Oh, hey Zoey, you good to listen to the rest o' that story 'bout when-'

'Why don't you tell me right now, Ellis, and let Zoey try to get a hold of a proper weapon?' Louis intervened quickly with a swift look at Zoey's faraway expression. At his words she eyed the bloodied crowbar in her hand and placed it on a kitchen counter, already spying a large butcher's knife in a block.

While Ellis was certainly less eager to share his story with someone who wasn't... well, Zoey, he still launched happily into the tale, content with the knowledge that he had a willing audience. The girl murmured something about checking the street below to see if the numbers had risen, and slipped out the sliding glass door onto the balcony.

Bill watched her retreat and made an inward decision- it was time.

**The Forest, 22: 05 PM **

It was quiet as they made their way through the looming woods; all was quiet and calm save for the trickles of a nearby river. Rochelle squinted to make out the lines on the map she clutched in her hand and continued to lead onwards.

'I don't like this,' Coach stated plainly, bringing up the rear.

'Tell me about it,' Francis replied dryly. 'I'll be happy when we're outta these goddamn trees. I can't see shit.'

'Here.' Rochelle took the flashlight she had pilfered from the station and tossed it to him. He caught it and switched it on quickly, thrusting the light into the shadows.

And directly into the eyes of the Witch they hadn't heard over the river.

Several things happened very fast then. Everyone faltered backwards, breath catching in their throats as the creature gave a sudden savage snarl, eyes burning through her lank, pale hair. She shoved herself up from the ground, spine arching and claws stretching out to swipe as Rochelle forced out some half thought out warning. 'We gotta run... we gotta run NOW-'

A single gunshot cut off her cry, and she felt her knees tremble as she watched the Witch glide to the ground with an earsplitting screech. A bullet hole glinted wetly on the bridge of her shattered nose, looking grotesquely like a third crimson eye. Nick lowered his handgun, looking coolly pleased with himself.

'Nice shot,' she complimented breathlessly.

**Rettleburg Apartment Complex, Pennsylvania, 22: 12 PM **

She was sitting on the fire escape when he finally got the chance to join her, legs dangling between the thin steel bars as she pensively regarded the considerably quiet street below. She didn't look up at him but simply nodded as she acknowledged his presence. 'Hey, Bill.'

'Zoey.'

He joined her gingerly, leaning his back against the cool brick wall behind the escape instead of also sitting by the rail. There was a faint click as he lit up a new cigarette, a silence settling between them. Not an awkward silence, nor a comfortable one. Just a silence.

'Something you wanna tell me?' he finally voiced. He half-expected her to say no, or to shy away from the topic of her distress. However, she took a deep breath and continued to look out onto the city.

'I remembered too much.'

A pause. 'The book?'

'Well... yeah. I remembered _everything_. I remembered how it ended.' Her voice had lowered.

'And how did it?'

Zoey picked distractedly at a flaying speck of paint on the steel, and for a moment it seemed she wouldn't reply. She did, however. She always did. 'Me. Everybody else... gone. Not that I lasted much longer anyway. We're all... Bill, all of us are...'

'Yeah. I thought as much.' His words were so simple, so calm that they seemed to bring an odd consolation to her. The dead girl shook her head.

'One thing I don't get though.'

'Yeah?'

'Why the hell couldn't I remember anything?' she whispered.

'You say you were alone?'

'Yep...'

'I'll tell you right this second, Zoey- loneliness is about the worst thing in this world. You want to know why you couldn't remember? I say cos you didn't want to. You were alone and you were scared, and it's what every other damn person would have done- you blocked it out.'

She dropped her eyes and after a moment nodded, the hollow sensation in her stomach deepening though she still didn't panic. 'So where are we? 'Cos I'm pretty friggin' sure this isn't heaven, Bill. And if it is I feel _seriously_ ripped off.'

'You wanna know my theory?' the older man asked, stern eyes still raking the cityscape. She was grateful for the way he didn't once look at her; it made her feel safer somehow, less pressured.

'I'm asking for it, aren't I?'

'The way I see it, dying's like a doctors appointment. You try not to think about it and pretend there's nothing wrong 'cos the idea creeps you out, but it comes around anyway whether you like it or not. But... that's death. And where we are... where we are is the waiting room.'

Bill finally looked into the girl's eyes and she mashed her mouth into a thin line with a semi-understanding. The two stayed sat atop the slates for a while longer in a simple hush, Bill thinking as he took a long drag on his cigarette, Zoey's arms crossed tightly across her chest as though it could protect her from the world.

* * *

A/N: Props to Mechanical Animals and FroFro567 (on dA) for being the first two to correctly guess the big reveal. It's far from over, though... more on that next chapter.

In conclusion? Ellis is cute. Louis is understanding. Zoey's scared. Bill's knowing. Rochelle's getting by. Francis is trying for once. Coach is strong. Nick is snarky and amazing. Witches are crabby as shit.

I'll update soon. :)


	10. Red

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Ten: Red

* * *

**The Forest, 22: 26 PM **

'We're lucky the infected are pretty few and far between out here, huh?' Coach mused aloud as Nick stumbled over yet another gnarled root with a string of well-practiced curses. 'I mean, makes sense I guess... not many folks come out here anyway.'

Rochelle tightened her grip on the hunting rifle she'd 'borrowed' from the rangers' station. Another rumble of thunder sounded somewhere far off. It was the second one they'd heard in the last few minutes, and though distant it was apparent a big problem was closing in.

'If that noise is anythin' to go by,' Francis said, with an almost concerning look of enthusiasm. 'we're gonna have some serious fun out here within the hour.'

'Anyone here ever do boy scouts?' Nick asked after a moment, gaze never leaving the trees around them as they moved onwards. Three pairs of eyes bored into him incredulously. 'Alright, alright, just asking.'

'Why bother?' asked Rochelle without much curiosity.

'Because pitching some crazy-ass tent when that storm hits would be really helpful, that's why.'

'Somethin' tells me we'd be wantin' more than a tent, son.' responded Coach.

'What, and you have a better idea?'

'Well, I-'

A massive boom made the men grow silent, heralded only by a faraway flash.

'Ah, tits.'

**A City Street, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, 22:36 PM **

Pandemonium.

When Ellis was a little kid, he learned what the word meant in school. It meant chaos. Madness. Topsy-turvydom. At the time it had seemed funny, something wild and bright and exhilarating. It still meant much the same, but this time it was ever so slightly different. Because Ellis was scared.

He'd never really been scared before.

He considered it to be something to do with the group he now traveled with. He felt sure he could rely on them- they were trusting and decent. But unfamiliar. The notion of Coach right behind him, so handy with a chainsaw, or Rochelle gripping an ax determinedly would have been... comforting.

He didn't give himself time to be afraid any longer.

'Get to the car!' Zoey yelled above the shrieks of the infected who swarmed them. Louis took out a Hunter mid-jump as it darted for Bill and moved spryly on.

'Are you sure?'

'No time to think, Louis!' The girl said, ducking as the tongue of a distant Smoker missed her by an inch. 'Just shooting and running right now! Car! Go!'

The four threw themselves into the vehicle. All doors closed with loud clacks, saved for Ellis' in which a zombie had lodged a clawing arm. The boy gritted his teeth and blew her arm off messily, forcing the door closed as she bellowed in agony. Zoey started up the engine and it kicked into life.

'Drive, girl!' he crowed.

The car swerved fast, reducing a handful of infected to mush. However, as her eyes worked quickly to locate a way off the street, it became apparent there were too many. They were everywhere- bloody faces mashed up against the windows, packed so tightly in. A Jockey tumbled off the roof as the car jerked again.

'Christ in a handbasket, Zoey-'

'Jesus!' Louis gasped to her side. 'Get out, GET OUT, we have to-'

There was a deafening roar as the Tank made itself known. Zoey watched through frozen eyes as a nearby minivan was plucked from the side of the street like a tennis ball and hurled into a building. Rubble showered down onto the path, resembling a deadly waterfall.

Before any of them could so much as make a move, Zoey's car was heaved upwards into the air.

Everything seemed to slow down, as though watching a movie frame-by-frame. The swarms of infected around them, slowly being left behind on the ground as the Tank snarled again. The swift, stomach-churning motion of the movement as the Tank threw back it's arm, taking them with it.

When it threw them, Zoey wished for death as though she hadn't already claimed it. Screaming. Tumbling. No air. Blurs in the darkness. Terror. Even less air. And shock.

Shock, when the car connected with the dark _water. _

Her lungs were burning as she tried to take a calming breath, to see straight. To be denied something as basic, as simple as air was so twisted, so _wrong, _and she found she couldn't stop drawing in the water that brought no relief to her body.

They couldn't see.

**The Forest, 22: 55 PM **

It was like someone up there had a grudge against them. As if visibility wasn't horrendous enough in the blackness of the clustered woods, the steadily falling rain put another damper on matters, making it more difficult to hear one another clearly.

Every so often Francis placed a hand on the small of Rochelle's back, a small gesture to let her know that she wasn't as alone as the darkness made her feel. Well, perhaps not- that would be too deep for Francis. She smiled vaguely at the thought. Odds were it was as simple as it read- he was putting his hand on her back.

And then the downpour truly started.

The rain hit their bodies with almost painful impact, the cold stinging at their skin menacingly like a million tiny needles. They had to scream to be heard about the rolls of thunder. The stuff of nightmares.

Francis wasn't nearby anymore.

A splat of lightning cracked the raging sky above her, and Rochelle gave an inaudible cry as she felt the terrifyingly familiar force of a cackling Jockey connect with her back. His filthy arms latched around her neck, wet and grubby, and try as she did she couldn't do a thing when he began to steer. Into what hazard? Another witch? Spitter acid, unrecognizable in the undergrowth? Or into the pulsing river nearby?

'SOMEONE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!'

Rochelle buckled backwards as her prayer was answered, and the Jockey sailed off her back with a garbled groan, dark blood drops speckling her shirt. She blinked and struggled to make out her savior in the lack of light.

'Coach?'

Then a heavy-set zombie with a bald head and glasses stumbled forward, charging directly for her. She fired the rifle mindlessly, and he dropped like a fly. She just had enough time to spot the tell-tale neckerchief knotted around his neck.

She'd found Nick his scout.

A gust of wind rattled through the forest, and the hope inside her chest blew out like a candle. Where the hell was everyone?

**Where? When? **

'Shit, kid- take Louis and get to the bank. Chest compressions, if you don't know how to do 'em just try.'

'Zoey's still in there, we gotta-'

'I'll get her, just go. Them bastards are gonna hear us and be breathin' down our necks in a couple more minutes.'

'But-'

'GO, Ellis.'

**The Forest, 23: 27 PM **

Rochelle felt so sure was going to die, but not the way she nearly did a moment later.

A gunshot went off worryingly close to her and she flung her arms up, voice straining to be audible over the rain. 'Jesus, STOP! It's me!'

'Rochelle?''

A white suit became illuminated as a fork of lightning split the iron sky. Rochelle made a shaky noise, something between a sigh of relief and a terrified sob. Where was Coach? Where was Francis? Why the hell did she have to be so worried about him- why did she care? Fear tightened it's icy grip on her insides, and Nick reached out a hand to grab her by the arm as if to not lose her once he'd found her. She was grateful that if she began to cry with the stress, the rain would disguise it with ease.

'Where the hell are the other two?'

'I... I don't know. Jockey got me and somebody shot it off, and when I thought I saw them it was just... it wasn't either of them. Shit, Nick, I thought that-'

'We need to keep moving,' the con man insisted, letting go of her arm to raise up his weapon. 'They'll be okay, they're tough guys.'

'We don't even know what direction we're moving in!' Rochelle managed, trembling as the cold rain dripped down her back, hitting her with a force.

'This one.'

'A-and how do you know _that_?'

'I don't,' he replied simply. 'Stay close.'

**The Forest Outskirts, 23: 34 PM **

'There's light ahead... Could be another station or somethin'.' Coach called over a crash of thunder that left their ears ringing. 'Could find help.'

Francis flipped his gun over in his gloved hands for a moment in thought. Did he really care enough about the producer and the gambler to forsake the chance? 'You go. I wanna find 'em.' Damnit.

'No way in hell, boy. If you are, I am. I ain't runnin' off... and not knowin'.'

Francis glanced at the older man's determined expression and nodded once, curtly. It would have been noble, perhaps, to insist Coach move on to safety while he braved the storm alone. Noble but dumb. 'It's your ass.'

And so the two turned around into the unknown with a thoroughly pissed-off pair of sighs.

**Warehouse B, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, 23: 37 PM**

The first thing Zoey did when she opened her eyes was sneeze loudly.

Across the vast room, someone jumped nervously and hurried over to her, plopping down by her side. Her eyes struggled to focus, but she saw the hat easily.

'Ellis.'

'I-I couldn't find a blanket or nothin',' he gibbered. 'I mean, that's what yer supposed to do when somebody almost drowns, right? Get 'em warm? Louis said we'd look fer blankets and shit once he'd... yeah.'

She pushed herself up unsteadily, raking a hand through her coarse and dripping hair. Her clothes were damp and uncomfortable. The room, she noticed, was lined with thick though empty steel shelves on all sides. 'Don't get up, please,' Ellis said softly. 'I dunno if ya can take it jus' yet.'

'Where are we?'

'When the big guy threw us... we went down in the river a street over. You and Louis was out cold straight away, but Bill an' I managed to get up. Louis was easy ter get out, but you... you were wedged in at a real weird angle. So Bill went back down to get yer while I woke Louis up. Only...'

'What happened? Ellis, where are they? Tell me what happened!' Zoey didn't realize how loud her voice had grown until Ellis winced. She'd never seen him look so serious.

'Them monsters was in the water,' he informed her quietly, evidently reluctant to upset the girl. 'He got you out okay, but... well. Louis is helpin' him someplace down the hall right now.'

And though the last part of his statement should have been reassuring, Zoey saw the worry in the boy's eyes.

All he saw in hers was guilt.

**The Forest, 00. 02 AM**

'Under here!' Rochelle screamed above another deafening roll of thunder, grabbing her companion by the lapel of his suit jacket and trudging forward, dragging him behind her. They ended up in the not-very-good-shelter of an ancient tree, and Rochelle leaned against the massive trunk that seemed to rumble with the force of the storm as she tried to think.

'Shit, shit, shit. I'm s-so cold I can barely breath.'

Nick gave a general affirmative sound, gaze distracted as Rochelle noted with a jolt he was eying her soaked (and presumably see-through) shirt. She rolled her eyes and slapped him, hard, on the arm. He started, looking up with an innocent 'What?'

'Nick, boy, come on! We're injured, I can't see a foot in front of my face, the others are missing and maybe hurt, this place is crawling with infected, the river is gonna break it's banks any second now, I'm your friend, you're mine, and I like Francis, so if you look at my chest like that ONE MORE TIME-'

'Huh?' Nick apparently hadn't heard over the rush of water, and for reasons unbeknownst to her he was smirking.

'Uh... yeah. I'm pretty sure I... I have feelings for him. Can we not have this discussion?,' she hissed hurriedly.

'Wait, one more time?' The con man cupped a hand to his ear, and her dark cheeks reddened in frustration and embarrassment.

'I'M IN LOVE WITH THAT BIG DUMB BIKER!'

Nick snickered, and Rochelle looked at him like he was crazy. There was a sudden movement nearby and she spun around, gun held steadily. It took a few seconds her to realize with a relieved gasp that it was Francis, water dripping down his face. For once, he and Nick wore nearly identical expressions- even if the smile of the man of the white suit was a hell of a lot more goading. Behind him, a saturated Coach allowed himself a chortle.

Rochelle narrowed her eyes and blushed even more.

And that was when the sky flashed white.

Something heavy collided with her shoulders, sinking her to the cold, muddy ground with a weakened moan that was reduced to nothing beneath the crash of wind and Nick's roar of agony.

**Warehouse B, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, 00. 14 AM**

Louis and Bill still hadn't returned, and Ellis, who had insisted on staying with her, was quieter than usual by her side. The revelations of her talk with the veteran mere hours ago were catching up with her, and the trials of tonight raced through her mind like flies, agitating her and bringing about wishes that she could simply bat them away.

Bill.

They were dead.

Bill.

All dead. She didn't understand.

_Bill. _

Dead. There was nothing real about this place, not these people, not even herself. They were nothing but ghosts of what they had been, right? _So why was she wishing harder than she'd ever wished for anything that this time, Bill would make it?_ She took a few deep, shuddering breathes that made her abdomen ache as she fought to hold back the sobs. _Dead. _

_Stop crying. Crying is gonna get you nowhere. _

Ellis tried to put his arms around her, the movement careful and tender, but she pushed him away, chest panging as she did so. He muttered some small comfort and tried again, but this time a real -though quiet- cry broke through and she pushed him off more frantically.

She wanted to let him hold her. More than anything. But she couldn't, not now.

And so Ellis didn't try to embrace her again, nor did he move away. Instead the young mechanic simply stayed by her side, watching through helpless eyes as Zoey battled with every fiber of her being to stop the tears.

* * *

A/N: Red is passion. Red is love. Red is pain, war, anger, sacrifice. Red is blood.

The colour red has so many meanings, don't you think? xD

This chapter was emotionally draining in the extreme to write. But I rather liked the finished product- still, Bill, Nick and Ro's lives currently hang in a potential balance. I'd wanted more action as the story moved on and... I like to think I accomplished that. I love writing all of these characters so much- they're all so brilliant in their own flawed ways. I think I broke my own heart writing Ellis at one or two moments. I think I get too emotionally involved in this stuff, heh.

On another note, I'm going away for a couple of days on Wednesday. I'll try to update before then, but there's a possibility I'll just get a lot done if I write when I'm gone, so just letting you know about that. (:

Thank you for all the alerts, favourites and reviews- really, it means the world to me. Drop me a note and let me know what you think so far, if you wish; I'd love to hear your opinions, and I always do my best to reply. :)


	11. The Secret to Living

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Eleven: The Secret to Living

* * *

**The Forest, 00: 06 AM**

'Ro. RO. ROCHELLE! Can she even- Damnit, wake the hell up!'

Rochelle blinked, pushing back the overpowering wave of dizziness that swept over her. Her shoulder stung where part of the tree had collapsed on her and she could feel the blood mixing with the rainwater- but she was breathing, albeit jaggedly, and that was what mattered. Her eyes focused slowly on a red-faced Francis who was bellowing in her ear with frustrated abandon.

'Ro, if you don't-'

'I hear you,' she spluttered, trying to force her way up. Her arms felt weak, like pieces of straw, and she winced. Francis didn't waste any time, grabbing her securely by the waist and heaving her to her feet.

'Easy, easy. You good to walk?'

'I-I think so. What the hell-'

'We saw lights from another station that way.' Coach gestured hurriedly through the trees. He tossed Rochelle the flashlight, and she caught it in a wet hand. 'Nick's real hurt; it's gonna take both of us to carry him, ya hear? So you gotta lead, baby girl.'

Rochelle looked for the first time at Nick. Francis was in the process of distastefully removing the thick branch from atop him, and he was in bad shape, eyelids flickering as he fought not to black out. Coach dragged one of his arms up around his neck, Francis taking the other, and the two lifted her friend clean off the forest floor as he hissed in pain.

'Let's go, let's go!' The urgency in Coach's tone brought to mind a bunch of football players almost breaking their backs through training, but it had the desired effect- they moved quicker in finding the second station than they had before. Lights poured out blissfully from the windows, though the place seemed deserted.

The door was broken down with relative ease, and the four tumbled inside in a flurry of aching limbs and raindrops. They'd done it. They were safe. For now.

A Spitter in the distance hacked up something grotesque.

Nick gingerly moved his leg from where he was slumped on the floor as Francis secured the room, giving a stifled groan as a shudder of pain gripped him. Rochelle was at his side in an instant, water dripping from her earrings as they shook. The con-artist's stare was glazed over and weak.

'Nick! You need to stay awake, you hear me? I'll fix you up. You're gonna be fine. Listen to me, sweetie.'

It was the first time, Nick noted as the world spun above him, Rochelle had ever called him sweetie. Usually such nicknames seemed reserved for Ellis and the like, and it was something he was glad for- he didn't want to be babied with pet names and terms of endearment. Didn't need to be.

But it was sort of.. well, not nice, no. Reassuring was a better word. Someday, Rochelle would make a really good mom.

'Coach- Coach! Help me,' she demanded, brown eyes wild as she tipped out the contents of a med kit onto the safe room floor. Both Coach and, moments later, Francis joined her down there and the three set quickly to work on his injuries. Rochelle's own wounds, she discovered, were largely superficial- the cuts were large and numerous, still bleeding freely, but shallow.

'Francis, hold him down.'

'Huh?'

'His knee,' Coach said bluffly. 'We gotta pop it back in place... and believe me, it's gonna hurt like a bitch.'

Doing as he was told, Francis placed a strong hand on either of Nick's shoulders. His eyes darted down to the scarlet puddle that surrounded his drenched leg. 'You know, human body's only got so much blood inside it... might wanna save some of this in a cup or somethin'.'

Given his delirious state, Nick was actually tempted to laugh. However, at that moment Francis' grip tightened on him and an agonizing crack rippled up through his body. Nick gritted his teeth hard and spots burst across his vision before giving way the the darkness.

**Warehouse B, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, 01: 36 AM**

When Louis re-entered the storage room, the first thing he did was shake out one of the blankets he'd found and throw it around Zoey's shoulders. Though her eyes were open and bloodshot, this simple gesture seemed to wake her up a little and she stirred, looking up at him.

'Where is he?'

'Yeah, how's he doin'?' Ellis added.

Louis dumped the remains of the health kit he had been using onto a shelf and ran a hand over his head, his ever-present battle to remain optimistic visible for a moment. Finally he turned to face the pair. 'As of now it's touch and go. If infection doesn't set into the wounds... he should be okay.'

'Where is he?' Zoey repeated, her voice small.

'Just down the hall. Ellis, I need you to go watch over him in a second, okay? He's sleeping now but I don't wanna take any chances. Zoey can take a shift once she's a little more up to it.'

'Sure thing, man,' Ellis answered.

'No, Louis, I'm fine, I can-'

'Zoey, you almost drowned,' Louis said softly. There was nothing but concern in his eyes as he took in her damp hair and trembling hands, but for some reason it nettled the girl.

'So did you.'

'Which is why Ellis is taking a shift so I can rest,' Louis reasoned. 'Zoey, please... I know you're upset-'

'This is my fault,' she hissed with a shake of her head.

''Course it ain't, Zoey!' Ellis insisted, clearly appalled at the idea.

'You don't know that!'

'You're worried, Zoey, I get that...'

'NO!' she roared suddenly, angry tears springing to her eyes as she rounded on Louis. Beside her, Ellis flinched. 'He's dying in there. He's _dying_, Louis! And that's on me. I'm the one who said we should head for the car- I'm the one he had to stinking _save.' _

Louis's expression was pained as he tried to diffuse her temper. It was clear that once upon a time he, too, had experienced this guilt. 'Listen, girl, he's not gonna-'

'And you know what the worst part is? The worst part is that we don't even know what's gonna happen if he _does_, because he's already... already...' She shuddered, words failing as she lost some steam. Ellis and Louis glanced at one another and watched her like they would watch an aggrieved Witch settle back down, hoping it wouldn't attack.

'Yeah,' Louis said quietly, hands smoothing down his water-crinkled tie in a preoccupied kind of way. 'He's already dead. _We're _already dead.'

A pause.

'He told you two, huh?' The girl's voice was raspy from tears and yells.

'Uh-huh.' Ellis confirmed huskily. Never had she seen him look so like a lost little boy and a brave, worried man all at once.

'And?' she muttered expectantly.

'And...' The young analyst came forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbing up and down soothingly. 'And I think what's important right now is that we take care of each other, huh?'

Frustration had pooled inside her for too long now. It bubbled and boiled in her gut like magma, ready to hiss and burn on contact. There were a million sarcastic retorts dancing on her tongue, thousands of biting and broken snaps all prepared to spill out of her mouth and race to be the first to be vocalized.

Instead she forced herself to look up into the eyes of the two men standing before her.

'Yeah. I guess so.'

**Ranger's Station, The Forest, 05: 58 AM**

When Nick came to, the storm had calmed somewhat. Beyond the grimy window pane the sky was still dark, yet the pinkish-orange strain of light was beginning to seep into the horizon like some garishly coloured ink.

He shifted on the patchy sofa, eyes slowly wandering the room with a practiced precision. A dying fire crackled meekly in the fireplace. His suit jacket had been removed and hung across the back of a chair, and thick bandages restricted his leg from much movement. Skeptically, he flexed it. A jolt of pain ran up it stiffly, yet this was nothing compared to the shattered mess it had felt like before.

Someone coughed slightly, and he finally noticed Rochelle curled up in a light sleep a little way off, her back resting against the leg of a table awkwardly. Dried blood stained the sleeve of her pink shirt. Her eyes were only half-shut, and when he tried to push himself up they blinked in confusion before she chuckled wryly, drawing her legs up beneath her.

'Thought we'd lost you for a second back there, Suit.'

'Won't get rid of me that easy. How long you been sitting there?'

'We made sure this place was safe and I said I'd take first watch... keep an eye on you. That must've been... what, two and a half hours ago?'

Nick watched her for a moment, almost bored. 'Go get some rest, Rochelle.'

'I'm fine,' she said firmly.

He raised an eyebrow at that. 'Listen, I've only known you a couple of days now but I can see you're worn out- and you're no use to anybody if you're too tired to shoot. I ain't exactly gonna drop dead at this stage, so go.'

'It's just that-'

'Can you stop worrying about somebody else for two seconds?' Nick snapped, though he met her eyes and held the gaze. 'Look at you. Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but you're a wreck. Take a leaf out of my book, be a little selfish for once.'

Rochelle gave a small laugh, leaning back wearily where she sat. 'You ain't selfish, Nick. Far from it.'

'Go wake up Coach. Or the Skull-Crusher 3000, but really- last thing I need is him, me and no witnesses.' His tone was decisive and eventually she opted not to resist.

Coach was half-awake when she went to get him, luckily, and when she appeared in the doorway he immediately hoisted himself up. Bedsprings creaked beneath him as he asked about Nick's wellbeing with such a casual air it seemed to confirm that yes, things really had gone _that much_ to shit.

'He... seems okay, actually.'

Coach smirked, though not unkindly. 'Well, when he starts complaining we'll know for sure he's good as new.'

Rochelle just laughed. 'Hoping it's sooner rather than later; we need to get out of these woods, cos if I never see a tree again it'll be too soon.'

'And then there's the zombies.'

'Then there's the zombies.'

**Warehouse B, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, 06: 16 AM **

Bill watched Zoey evenly as she closed the storage room door behind her and took a seat on an upturned crate, expression unreadable as she began her shift. The lighting of the room was poor- a single uncovered bulb hung from the ceiling and flickered worryingly every few minutes. Louis had patched him up relatively well, though a poorly stitched slash near his jaw would likely scar. He was propped up against the wall, a mess of semi-clean towels bunched around him like nest.

Bill's breath was shaky, though the words came with just as much strength as they always did. 'You got bigger things to be worryin' about than me, kid.'

'Are... uh... are you okay?' The question sounded stupid, she thought. Childish.

'Did you not just hear me?' She smiled tightly at his words, still waiting for an answer. 'Some damn antibiotics wouldn't go amiss, butI've had wounds that'd make this shit look like paper cuts.'

She nodded hurriedly, the statement clearly meaning more to her than he would ever know. The next question came quickly, as though she'd planned it out beforehand. 'I've been thinking. Bill... Do you think we're being punished?'

'What?'

'L-limbo. Isn't that where... where you atone for your sins and all that stuff?'

Bill was quiet for a moment at that, taking in her quizzical face. She no longer seemed as frightened. Defiant, perhaps, and certainly confused- but not afraid. And that he could work with.

'I think we're here for a reason,' he said calmly. 'And I don't think that's it. 'Cos only the really good and the really bad die young, and...'

'And?'

'And I figure we were the good ones. Now do an old man a favour and light me up a cigarette.'

**Ranger's Station, The Forest, 07: 29 AM**

Francis gave a started grunt as something small, hollow and plastic connected with his shoulder, jerking him into consciousness. Rochelle stood by the door, grinning malevolently.

'You just threw a pill bottle at me.' In his tired state the sentence came out more like a gruff question. The girl merely shrugged and nodded.

'There are nicer ways to wake a man up, Rochelle.'

The reporter rolled her eyes slightly, though he could have sworn her grin widened just a fraction. 'It's your turn to keep an eye on Nick. We ain't sure if he's a hundred percent okay to be on his own just yet.'

'Should have left him behind when we had the chance, huh?' he said, perhaps just half jokingly.

'Francis, you can't leave somebody else behind. You're not able to.' A warm smile traced her lips, and he was suddenly unsure how to respond. 'You made that much clear last night when you _saved _him_. _And me.'

'I did not save that-'

'Yeah, you did. She took a few steps forward, enjoying the annoyance welling up inside him at her words. 'You saved us... and you know, that makes you a _hero_.' She played idly at the lapels of his vest, not looking into his face for a moment. Finally she glanced up, hoping he didn't notice her skin darken as blood rushed to her face. 'You like that? Being a hero?'

He shot back without hesitation, a sudden smirk darting across his features. 'Do _you _like heroes?'

Without any warning she gave the vest a sudden tug, pulling him down so that his face was level with hers. Her eyes sparkled puckishly with a light he hadn't really seen before.

'I like this one.'

And saying so she snaked her arms around his neck and kissed him. It was brief, almost teasing, and yet he didn't protest when she broke away only to drag him into an embrace. His smirk hadn't wavered. Warm breath ghosted along his neck as she laughed to herself.

'Even if he did hold me at gunpoint the second time we met.' She barely managed to finish the sentence before their lips crashed into one another again, forceful, almost hungry. He wasn't exactly gentle, but then neither was she so it didn't matter.

It felt right.

Just like it had in the eaves of that shitty Cleveland bar what felt like a century ago.

* * *

A/N: Aw. Cute moment. :) Hopefully this chapter wasn't too filler-y. I sort of wanted some wind-down time after the madness of last chapter, so a lot of this was character relationship work and information stuff. xD Still, I really quite like it as a chapter- lots of varied emotions on all sides. Hopefully you guys enjoyed too. Also, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for all the lovely reviews and favourites and alerts- they make me smile. A lot.

I'll do my best to update soon, and if you guys would review in the meantime it'd be great. :)


	12. Happenstance

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Twelve: Happenstance

* * *

**Ranger's Station, 09: 02 AM **

'What the hell kind of crooked forest rangers worked here?' Rochelle chuckled, only mildly incredulous.

She, Francis and Coach were surveying the few weapons they had found within the station, to be used whenever they moved on. Francis held a chainsaw at his side, looking like some kind of incorrectly dressed lumberjack, whereas Coach had come across a hunting rifle and Rochelle gripped an axe comfortably in her hands.

Somewhere downstairs, Nick was confined to the couch and idly playing with a deck of waterlogged cards. Boredom, unsurprisingly, didn't suit the con artist well and he was gripping more (if possible) than usual.

'You guys take this stuff downstairs, okay?' Rochelle said, laying down the weapon. 'There's another couple of rooms up here I wanna take a look around in.'

'Okay, little sister. Make it quick.' She nodded and Coach took her axe in his other hand, moseying off down the dark and cramped hall. Francis spared her a wink before following the older man, and she bit her lip to stop herself from smiling.

She raided the bathroom with ease, pocketing several bottles of pain pills. They weren't strong, most likely more useful for blocking out headaches than numbing zombie-induced wounds, but it was something. Another handy find was a first aid kit in a cupboard, dusty and unused.

When she pushed open the door of the last unchecked room, Rochelle's eyes grew wide.

'Holy... holy SHIT.'

The room was cluttered, packed mainly with overflowing bookcases and a few stacked desks. An ancient computer sat in the corner, it's screen smudged and keyboard missing. However, this wasn't what she had eyes for.

Atop a table by the window was a broadcast transmitter.

**Warehouse B, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, 09: 14 AM**

'Louis?'

'Hm?'

'I was... uh. I was wonderin' if I could ask ya somethin'. You know, man ter man and all.'

Louis glanced up at the Southern boy as he placed the bottle of pain pills on the floor beside him. His leg had been twinging again, and he'd begun to limp ever so slightly. His crutches had been abandoned long ago in the back seat of Zoey's now-destroyed car, something he now regretted. However, there was little he could do about it.

'Louis.'

'Yeah, sorry man. I'm listening.'

Ellis glanced around surreptitiously before beginning. 'You and Zoey are pretty good buddies, huh?'

It hadn't been the query he had been expecting. There were more mystifying things to think about, though the simple askance was almost welcome. It drew his mind away from the wild improbability of their situation. 'I... guess you could say that.' he shrugged easily. 'We been through a lot of shit together. If that doesn't make people close I don't know what does.'

'Right... sooo, I guess you'd know a lot about her.'

Louis crinkled his forehead a little, only half-sure of there this was leading. 'We sort of spent more time shooting than exchanging hi's and how are you's. Look, Ellis, you wanna spit out what you're trying to ask?'

The boy gulped almost cartoonishly. Louis raised an eyebrow.

'I'm in love with 'er, man. She... she's been on my mind since day freakin' one.'

The analyst smiled and reached over to clapped Ellis, who had paled considerably, on the shoulder with an affable air. 'Well... there's just one thing you can do about that, Ellis.'

'Naw, man, you just don't get it.' Ellis shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, a childish look crossing his usually sunny features.

'Get what?'

'Get _it_.'

'Hey guys.' The pair jumped as the door across from them opened and Zoey stepped in, shift with Bil seemingly complete. She half-raised a hand in greeting and let it drop to her side when she noted how much her two companions resembled a couple of deer caught in headlights.

'Uh... everything okay?'

'What? Ha! Naw, don't you be worryin'... there's nothin'. Everythin' good. Good good good. S'all good!' Ellis said too quickly. Louis nodded frantically, and Zoey looked from one to the other, expression bemused before nodding.

'If... you say so.'

**Ranger's Station, 09: 35 AM**

Nick grunted in discomfort as Coach half-dragged, half-lifted him up the short staircase. His knee was still tender and he had a niggling feeling it would never be in prime condition again. Somewhat awkwardly the larger man helped lower him into a chair in the back room, and he turned his gaze to the transmitter.

'Why the hell would they need something like that in a place like this?'

Rochelle shrugged, not looking up as she examined the device. 'Forest fire alerts, I guess. Emergencies, so people could pick it up.'

'Something tells me zombie outbreak falls under the category of emergency... If anyone heard it, we could get our asses outta this leafy hellhole.' Coach added.

'Can you even work that thing?' Nick asked Rochelle, perhaps a little more haughtily than he'd meant to. By the window, Francis scoffed.

'Give the lady a chance, Fancy Face.'

'Oh, keep it in your chaps,' Nick shot back tauntingly.

Francis began to thunder back something vulgar, but Coach cut him off with an impatient whistle. The two glanced around to him almost sulkily. 'You two are worse than juniors, you know that? And believe me, I've taught Health class, and I'd rather take thirty of 'em than put up with your bitchin' all day long.'

'If you three are done?' Rochelle voiced dryly, seizing the moment of silence.

'You got it?'

'Course I did,' she replied in a mock-offended tone. 'Can't work at a news station without pickin' up a few tips and tricks along the way. Now... who wants to do this? Once we record a message and set it to broadcast it'll just keep looping until somebody turns it off.' She held up the mouthpiece, plopping herself into a sitting position on the table.

'I can.' Coach approached her side. She handed him the instrument and reached back, laying a hand on a button.

'When you're ready.'

Coach frowned a little and lifted the mouthpiece to his face before Rochelle nodded, pushing down on the record button.

'Uh... uh, hey ya'll. We got four immune survivors of the Green Flu epidemic, takin' refuge in Oconee Forest. If anybody can hear this, come get us. We're still tickin' over. And-'

'And get our sorry asses to North Carolina, you dolts.' Nick voiced loudly. Rochelle slapped a hand over his mouth, causing him to give a strangled 'mmff!' as she hissed impatiently.

'Boy, you better shut your damn mouth or that chainsaw is gonna see some goddamn good use when I shove it up your-'

'Well- okay, I think we're done here.' Coach hastily hit the button to end the recording and switched on the transmitter. Francis snickered briefly as Rochelle rolled her eyes, releasing Nick, and the four survivors shared a brief, look. They didn't dare hope... but maybe the signal would get through to someone.

Just maybe.

**Warehouse B, Lancaster, Pennsylvania, 11: 15 AM**

'We got a newsflash, folks.'

Zoey, Louis and Ellis looked up sharply at Bill's words. He had been assessing his wounds, inspecting Louis's stitching skills with a practiced eye that made the others almost nervous to look on. His eyes were unreadable, something typically 'Bill'- good, bad, or something in between, always the same calculating look. The other three had been helping when possible, sitting around and feeling useless when not.

When none of them replied immediately, Bill continued. 'We're moving on outta here.'

Ellis blinked, a polite though puzzled smile arranging itself on his dirty face. 'When?'

Bill snorted, peeling back a final bandage that encircled his lower arm and observing the mess of dried blood below. Louis immediately snatched up a rag to clean it with, but Bill waved him off for a moment. 'Today, of course.'

'What?'

'... you have to be kidding me.' Zoey exchanged a slight look with Louis. 'You're hurt, Bill. These-' she gestured at the array of scratched and brusing- 'are not going away at the tip of a freakin' hat. We can wait. We can afford to wait.'

The old man cocked an eyebrow. 'Horseshit.'

'Bill, man, really- we can hold out up here for a while longer. We're safe here.' Louis nodded as though approving his own words, and Bill merely breathed out through his nose. Finally he turned his gaze on each of the three in turn.

'Zoey- Louis. Remember when you two asked me about... theories? About what kind of bullshit is going on?'

'You said you didn't want us jumping the gun...' Zoey recalled skeptically. Ellis listened silently, eyes wide. 'So you'd hold them back.'

'Well, listen up- 'cos I'm gonna tell you now.'

'Shoot,' murmured Louis, expression unsure.

'Any of you ever heard of the term... unfinished business?'

Yet another silence met his question. Somewhere outside, a Boomer gurgled loudly. Zoey raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. 'You mean, like... to do with ghosts and stuff?'

'My theory,' Bill went on. 'is that we're here... in this place... for a reason. Not to be punished, no. I don't think that's it. I think we're here to finish what we left- well, unfinished. Be it getting our asses out of here and to rescue, or somethin' else.'

'So yer sayin'... we gotta do what we gotta do... an', well, _move on_ after we do it.' Ellis looked dubious, and maybe just a little fearful of the reality of the situation. However, when Bill confirmed this by nodding simply, the flicker of fear was gone. 'An' that ain't gonna get done by sittin' round here.'

Zoey and Louis still seemed reluctant. Bill gave Ellis a curt nod, apparently pleased that at least one of them had some sense of priority. The boy dragged his backpack closer to him on the floor, delving inside for a moment before producing his cattle taser with a low whistle.

'About time this beauty got ter see some use, huh?'

**Ranger's Station, 11: 29 AM **

'That is... a REALLY dumb idea, you know.'

Francis grinned faintly at the sound of Rochelle's voice from the doorway. His dark eyes stole a look over his shoulder before he resumed his leaning position from the upstairs window, gunning down any infected outside that wandered too close to the building.

'And why's that?'

Light footsteps sounded across the wooden floor and she leaned against the wall beside him, watching with a cocked eyebrow. 'One- chances are that gunfire'll lure in more of them than it'll take out. Two- if a Smoker gets you from here, you're royally screwed.'

'Psh, I'll strange that fumy bastard with his own damn tongue,' he scoffed, evidently hoping to impress. Downstairs, the sound of Coach and Nick rummaging for food floated up. Still, Rochelle stood there. 'How come you don't sound worried?'

'Because we could handle it,' she said plainly. Francis was no longer watching the trees below. She reached out and traced a tattoo on his arm idly, closer than before.

'What?' he chucked. 'You gonna try and jump me again?'

'Would you complain?' Rochelle shot back knowingly, a glint in her eye. And then, suddenly curious- 'How many do you have?'

He had to wait a couple of seconds to respond, finding himself somewhat distracted by the close proximity. Dammit, how did she manage to do that to him?

'... tattoos?'

'No, Francis, cars. YES, tattoos.'

'Sorta lost count after a while.'

Her grin widened. 'Interesting.' And for the second time that morning, her lips crashed into his. She was calmer now, and it showed; this kiss was languid, lazy, and hell if he was going to change that. Everything had descended into madness, but in the simple gesture was a hint of normality, of humanity, and this, to her, meant everything.

They didn't notice the sound of approaching footsteps. Approaching, _irregular footsteps._

'Christ, how about _closing doors _behind us?' Nick's irate voice voice drifted though as he passed the opening slowly on his way down the hall.

'Whatever happened to 'be a little selfish'?' Rochelle called breathlessly, prompting a confused look from Francis above her. She shook her head at him, smirking as though to tell him never mind.

'Doesn't count when I am in any way in the vicinity!'

The con man's limping gait faded away slowly and the two heatedly picked up where they'd left off.

**Location and Time: Unknown**

The sound of the chopper blades was deafening. A hand twiddled a couple of dials hopefully, the angry sound of static meshing with the wind in an ugly sort of way. A radio bleeped and was raised to a dry mouth. The voice that echoed was tinny and tired.

'Kirk?'

'Vinny, I don't think there's anyone left alive in this area. Gonna start moving north.'

'Copy that. Did you-'

_'come get u-' _

'Vinny, man, hold on for just one second. I think I'm picking something up.' Kirk dropped the radio into his lap, struggling to keep his focus on flying as he backtracked the dial quickly. More static, but- wait. There. There it was.

_'-our sorry asses to North Carolina, you dol-mmmftmm!' _

_'Boy, you better shut your damn mouth or that chainsaw is gonna see some goddamn good use when I shove it up your-' _

Kirk gave a tiny laugh of disbelief as the message began to play again. This was recent. Someone was down there- someone _alive _was down there. He quickly confirmed his location before scooping up the radio hurriedly.

'V, you still there?'

'Yeah- what's going on?'

Kirk let a grin slide across his haggard features. 'Some lucky bastards are about to have their day made.'

* * *

A/N: Yes, I named a chopper pilot and his associate. They're not important... but their function is. Anyway, they'll appear again next chapter, obviously, because luck happened to be on Francis, Coach, Nick and Ro's side... because they're awesome like that.

Zoey, Ellis, Louis and Bill are moving on also- with a pretty decent idea of what's going on, I like to think. And some pairing goodness this chapter. I discovered I like Louis/Ellis friendship, actually. (:

Sorry for taking a while with this update... sort of had some more difficulty than usual, and some personal stuff to attend to, so I was busy. But thank you for the great feedback. xD I'll update soon, and reviews would be awesome.


	13. Ever Further

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Thirteen: Ever Further

* * *

**Ranger's Station, 13: 58 PM**

_Gunfire. Loud, relentless gunfire. The vomit-inducing sound of bullets pounding feverish flesh, and a hideous gurgle. _

_Louder._

_It only got louder._

_And all she could do was listen._

Large, steady hands gripped Rochelle's shoulders and gently eased her from the dull horror of the nightmare. She twitched awkwardly, almost too well rested and yet still exhausted. Eventually Coach's familiar face swam into view and she smiled humorlessly, making to push herself up from where she was catnapping in an armchair.

She looked at him, half-expecting a concerned remark. Perhaps she'd been whining in her sleep?

Instead, the older man straightened up and offered her a hand. That was when she realized that the loud noise hadn't faded away as she woke- it was still present, somewhere outside the house. The sound of propellers beating air with a vigor, the echoes of Nick and Francis lumbering around hastily downstairs.

She couldn't be still dreaming. That would be dumb.

... right?

Coach steadied her and reached down, offering her the handle of her ax. All hazy eyes and parted lips, she took it.

'Better hold on to that, girl.'

'Just so I know I'm not going crazy, here... I _do _hear chopper blades outside, right?'

Coach merely turned away and started to hurry for the stairs, confidence and hope and anxiety radiating off of him in almost dizzying amounts. 'I'm tellin' ya, somebody up there is lookin' out for us. When we die, we got a lot of ass kissin' to do.'

Rochelle chuckled nervously and darted after him, eager to put those godforsaken woods well and truly behind her.

**A City Street, 14: 03 PM**

It really had seemed like a good idea at the time, Ellis reasoned.

Uncharacteristically miffed, he flipped the useless cell phone into the air and caught it again, stuffing it into his pocket. Of course their episode in the river had virtually destroyed it- it was foolish to hope for anything else. This, however, hadn't stopped him from getting excited for a moment when he remembered he did, in fact, still have the phone containing Rochelle's number on him. He wondered where the others were, whether they'd find them safely, and promptly decided that yes, they would.

Ellis wasn't a worrier, something the others of the group seemed to envy just a tad.

'Hey, hey!' he exclaimed as the four finished off a Jockey which had narrowly missed taking Louis for a canter. The street was blissfully quiet at the moment, and the Jockey was the only infected they'd encountered for the past twenty or so minutes- even if Giggles had met his target, there would have been zero threats to lead it into. 'So I just got thinkin'... what if the phone lines is still up? Like, pay phones and shit?'

Bill shrugged with indifference, reloading his rifle opportunistically. 'Don't see how it makes any difference, but could be. It's only been a couple of days- things don't get bad this fast. There's others around, too- I keep hearin' gunfire far off. Poor bastards probably ain't even immune.'

'Always the picture of optimism, Bill.' Louis said quietly. Then, a little louder- 'Why d'you ask, Ellis?'

'So I can try to call the others. I mean, with all the shit that's happened I ain't really remembered, but I think if I try real hard I can remember Ro's number. If she still has the phone, I mean.'

Zoey, who had been scanning the street stoically, peered up at the boy next to her. 'Sounds like a pretty good idea- but first we gotta hurry up and get out of the city. We haven't covered as much ground as we'd hoped.'

'You think we can get another car?' wondered Louis, casting a hopeful look around the deserted area.

'Not one that's not alarmed,' Bill replied. He opened his mouth to add something to his statement but closed it again sharply, shoulders tensing. 'You people hear that?'

'Hear wh-' Louis broke off as quickly as he began, eyes widening a fraction as he too picked up the sound- a low, broken moan echoed from somewhere further up the street, closer to the alleys. '... Witch?'

Bill nodded mutely and motioned for the group to continue moving on.

'Hey, you know what, I think Louis is right.' Zoey said suddenly, taking on a determined look as she brought up the rear, pistols at the ready. 'I mean... I'm sick of running and shooting. I want to drive and _crush_, you know?'

Bill cocked an eyebrow lightly. 'And if we run into another Tank?'

'We'll listen to Louis,' she said.

At that Louis chuckled, albeit edgily. He stopped for a moment, waving his rifle thoughtfully. 'In that case, anyone know how to disable an alarm and hotwire a vehicle?

Ellis's hand shot into the air, a lopsided grin playing across his face at the idea of being of use. 'Yessir.'

'We'll have to hold a crock of them off if we're breaking a window,' Bill warned. A beat passed, and Zoey cracked a smirk that the others hadn't seen in what felt like a while. She twirled her pistols in her fingers almost cockily, a little wave of confidence seeming to break over her.

'Bring it.'

**Ranger's Station Grounds, 14: 11 PM**

Coach grunted and secured his grip on Nick's side, supporting the lame man as he tried to both shoot and hurry for the chopper that had barely touched down on the rippling grass on the outskirts of the tree line. The sound had caused the remaining infected in the woods to swarm like flies to a carcass, and so the run was less than simple.

Somewhere behind him, Francis swore crassly as he planted a boot into the chest of a downed zombie, revving the chainsaw with a booming laugh. On his left, Rochelle gave a breathless hiss of disgust as the blows of her axe sprayed her with hot redness. They were all here. They were close.

They'd made it, this far at the very least.

The side of the helicopter slid open with a loud clank. Inside, a man was yelling something incomprehensible, presumably cursing and swearing them onboard. An infected man lunged for the opening, and keeled backwards as Nick raised his free arm to send a bullet into the back of his head, steadily doing the same to two, three, four more.

Coach grabbed Francis roughly by the crook of a muscular arm and forced him in as the deafening noise of the chainsaw was finally quelled. The metal scraped closed, and the chopper jerked into the air like a disturbed fly. The thing bobbed a few times as the infected that clung to the sides slipped off, meeting an ugly end on the ground below.

For several seconds, there was a lull. The four were collapsed almost atop one another in the cramped space, sweaty and shaking with adrenaline. Nick coughed, dragging himself up into a sitting position and making an attempt to straighten his suit jacket.

'Well, that was... stirring.'

'You guys okay back there?' the pilot asked loudly above the noise of the chopper.

'Okay as we could be, son. Listen, there ain't no way we can thank you for comin' for us. We owe you one.' Coach called. 'Take it you picked up the distress signal, huh?'

'Got that right. It's a couple of hours's flight time to the nearest evac station- they're starting up shipping people out in a day or two. They seem to think this bullshit's getting worse before it gets better, and in this case I think those CEDA guys have a point. I'm gonna let you guys off at-'

'You're gonna let our asses off in North Carolina,' Francis interjected without so much as casting a glance up. He was busy trying to find a spot to place his weapon down, but when finding none he huffed and kept it in his grasp.

'And why the hell would you want that?' the pilot asked slowly, as though he were speaking to a young child or someone mentally slow.

Both Francis and Nick seemed ready to offer a blunt response, but Rochelle raised a hand. Recognizing that fact that she was easily the warm one of the group, they grew quiet with less trouble than usual. Rochelle strained her neck a little, peeking up as best she could to get a better look at the man. He was perhaps in his early thirties, lanky and lean with a slightly Asian appearance, clad in typical pilot gear. His dark eyes were clamped firmly on the windshield before him. 'Look... first of all, you got a name?'

'You can call me Kirk.'

She smiled exhaustedly, wiping a smudge of dirt from her cheek as she went on. 'Kirk... I'm Rochelle. This here's Francis, Coach, and Nick.'

'Well, Rochelle-Francis-Coach-and-Nick, you four wanna tell me why you wanna be dropped off in a state where there's only one goddamn evacuation point in the area? That's suicide.'

Nick rolled his eyes, and it was apparent he inwardly agreed with Kirk. 'We gotta find some people.' The man flicked his gaze over his shoulder for a moment, a hint of sympathy visible that made Francis scoff and Coach furrow his brow.

Kirk looked away once more, his tone steady. 'Bro, I think it's time to expect the worst- any buddies you got back home aren't gonna be any prettier than the folks down in the forest, I'll tell you that now.'

Nick seemed ready to set him straight with a cool look, but once again Rochelle beat him to it, eyes unusually hard. 'Boy, I don't wanna get nasty. You done a good thing by picking us up back there and we appreciate it, and we'll appreciate it more if you help us out and drop us where we ask.'

Kirk seemed conflicted, and after an instant she truly felt for his good intentions. 'Trust us... we know what we're doing, Kirk.'

'Need I bring into this the fact that we are heavily armed and you're not?' Nick added darkly.

The pilot, however, seemed to have made his mind up. He nodded, evenly and twisted his neck around to look once more at the four firm survivors that were heaped in the back, their bodies blue and beaten, their jaws set. 'As long as you're sure.'

Nick wondered briefly why he seemed to so fully expect Kirk to begin foaming at the mouth any second and lurch at them, and why he kept so firm a grip on his handgun because he knew he'd be the one who'd need to do the deed.

Luckily, it didn't seem to be necessary.

He still didn't put away the gun.

**A City Street, 14: 37 PM**

Zoey just barely subdued a retch, doing her best to hold her breath as she peeled the bile-coated red track jacket off of her aching limbs. The car trundled angrily away from the small hoard that had responded to the shriek of the car alarm, and Ellis slapped the dashboard happily.

They'd gotten away with relative ease, considering the last hoard they'd encountered had left half the group nearly drowned and one almost lethally wounded.

Superficial as it seemed, though, she really resented that Boomer for having to puke on her like a hardcore bulimic just as she threw herself into the passenger seat. Now, the vehicle stank with the hot and sour stench of the bile and Zoey was fuming. In the back seat, Bill absentmindedly lit a cigarette. No one complained- the smell couldn't possibly get any worse than at present.

The mood was, naturally, discontent, though a small dollop of victory made them feel more self-assured. They had a car. A functional car. They were on the move.

Minutes passed in a thoughtful silence. Finally, Zoey paused in running a hand through her sticky hair to give Ellis a small grin. 'You did good back there, starting this baby up.'

The mechanic sighed a little heavily, not daring to remove his eyes from the road though he seemed to want to. 'Woulda done a better job if you hadn't done got puked on by the big guy...'

'No, really. It was impressive.'

'Naw, you don't have ter-'

Ellis's sentence was cut short as a firm but virtually silent kick was delivered to the back of his seat. Behind him, Louis coughed subtly and returned his gaze to the window. Ellis took the hint.

'I mean... thanks, Zoey.'

'I'm just telling the truth,' the girl said kindly. They lapsed back into silence, and Ellis was left to wonder how she could possibly be so pretty even when coated in vomit.

* * *

Two groups raced ever closer to the finish line, tense silence lining each side like a bubble of barbed wire. Was this heaven? Was it hell? In between?

Or was it something completely different?

* * *

A/N: And YAAAY, the two groups are now moving faster, faster, and faster again. We're definitely on our downward slope to the end of this story- I'll be sad when we come to the end, but I have it aaaall planned out.

Lots of irony in weird places to be found in this chapter. Fun stuff. Was originally going to be a lot darker than it was, but... yeah. Here's hoping you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing it, and drop me a note to tell me what you think- it means the world to me, really.

I'll update as soon as I can- so for now, until next time. :)


	14. All I Have

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Fourteen: All I Have

* * *

**Charlotte, North Carolina, 19: 05 PM **

The sound of the blades beating the air was beginning to get on Nick's nerves.

Though the sun had yet to begin setting, it was sitting low in the sky. Visibility could have been better. All things considered, however, they'd made it to North Carolina in one piece. He wished the same could be said for his suit jacket.

'Here? You're sure?' Kirk allowed the helicopter to hover some thirty feet above the ground, surveying the destroyed scenery below with a grim eye.

'This is it alright,' Coach confirmed. 'Least I think so.'

The Asian man nodded once, still not dropping any distance. Francis raised an eyebrow in Rochelle's direction, exhaling deeply with evident boredom. After another long moment Kirk busied himself with the controls, murmuring something to himself about how Vinny would murder him if he knew he was leaving them off here.

'You said before there's only one evac in the area,' Rochelle ventured.

'Yet another reason this is a bad idea,' he shot back coolly.

She ignored him. 'Where is it and when's it gonna be in operation?'

A sigh that was irritating as it was irritated.

'You got a pen?'

**Alnick's Grocers, Safehouse Registration Number 87, 20: 09 PM**

The darkness, both inside and outside, was suffocating. Zoey found herself taking deeper breaths than were probably necessary, as though trying to get at the fresh air through a thick layer of black fabric. Still, it didn't scare her, though she did wonder if breathing did any good at this point.

In this place.

She had a lot of questions right now. Questions like if it was possible to die here, and where she would go if she did, how they would get out of here or if they were even supposed to.

She busied herself with using her flashlight to read the scribbles on the wall. It made her think about when she had made her final stand, in Fairfield, three initials blazing at her back, and the feeling it brought upon her was some bizarre cross between heart-shattering awe and nostalgia.

_This shit can't get any weirder, _one comment read. She couldn't have agreed more. The list of written replies that followed forced a low chuckle out of her- so like the internet forums she used to frequent, almost in another life. Correction; in her only life.

_You think so? I saw some little green men helping the zombies out. _

_+10 for creativity. _

_Sounds like a sci fi masterpiece._

_We're IN a sci fi masterpiece!_

_This is retarded._

_Can someone please hide the pens?  
_

'You should let us know where you're going when you wander off like this, you know.' Louis's voice came from behind her, a good natured-reprimand that didn't quite reach his tone. She turned to look over her shoulder. He was holding a bottle of water out towards her; with an appreciative grin, she took it.

'Bill and Ellis are almost done loading up on ammo,' he went on. 'Bill noticed you'd gone off and the kid almost blew a gasket with worry.'

She shrugged lightly before taking a deep swig of the lukewarm liquid- she hadn't eaten for the better part of a day, but it soothed her dry throat all the same, and for that she was grateful. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve before replying. 'Just wanted a little time to think, I guess.'

He didn't need to ask what about.

'You and Ellis and Bill...' she gave her head a small shake, deep in thought. 'You're better at this stuff than I am. Adjusting... But... but I'm getting there. I'm just trying to get my head around everything.'

'Hey- unfinished business, right?' Louis cited Bill's previous words.

'The only unfinished business I've got is having a real life, Louis. You know... see the world. Do all the stuff I wanted to do. I don't know, have some eating, sleeping, pooping kids one day.' She didn't sound sad; she was merely stating the facts, a weary smile pulling at her lips.

'We've all been robbed of that, Zo... But, think about it... you're not alone, right?'

Somewhere in the depths of the grocery store turned safehouse, Bill barked something about getting a move on before everything went belly up. He yelled it over the steady chatter of Ellis's Southern lilt, and he sounded more than a little exasperated.

'Better do what he says, Casper.' Zoey joked, taking the safety off her pistols. Louis did the same with his hunting rifle, and the pair took off towards the exit where the others waited.

'Ya'll good to go?' Ellis asked as they prepared to make the run for the car. Their destination was only a few hours off, and they were determined to drive the last stretch in one shot.

The others gave a general confirmation, and the boy (perhaps a little over dramatically) kicked the doors open. As Zoey's pistols spat a round directly into the face of an oncoming Hunter, she tittered quietly.

No.

She wasn't alone. Not one bit.

**The Alleyways, Charlotte, North Carolina, 21: 11 PM**

'You know, I've been here before. On business.'

'Wait to hold back with the information, Chucky Kentucky.' Francis stated sardonically after a beat of silence. Nick's revelation was news to the Coach and Rochelle, too, and they cast him perplexed looks as they drifted carefully through the narrow alleys behind the strip of stores, bars and restaurants.

Nick ignored Francis pointedly. 'And I think I know a place we can find those others with. There's a Burger Tank, not too long a walk from here. If we can power up the sign, it'll attract anyone with a brain stem within a couple of miles.'

'And anyone with a rotten, swollen one,' Rochelle countered dubiously as she adjusted a health kit on her back. 'That thing will have the infected swarming almost bad as the helicopter did.'

'It's the best idea we've had so far,' he said, tone somewhat lazy. 'And it'll work, too. Look, would I lie to you?'

In the darkness, Rochelle's playfully quirked eyebrow was invisible. However, the quiet that followed his statement said enough, and Coach chuckled softly from behind them.

'Think carefully before you answer that question, sweetheart.' Nick scowled, but broke off to adjust the silencer on his weapon before darting ahead and firing twice; up the alleyway, barely visible in the still blackness, a lone infected woman slumped back against the wall with a a splatter and a moan. 'So are we going or not?'

'He's prob'ly right,' Coach ventured. For his part, Francis merely heaved an indiscriminate grunt, evidently put out at the thought of going along with a plan concocted by Nick.

'I guess it's settled, then?' Rochelle said finally. 'To Burger Tank?'

'To Burger Tank,' Coach confirmed.

'Okay, well, can we start moving please?' Nick snapped impatiently. 'This isn't exactly the spot I'd want to run into a horde in.' He knocked his foot against a nearby trash can, highlighting his point. 'And it's gonna be pretty damn hard to work our way around any Witches we run into back here too.'

As they began to move onwards once more, Rochelle shot him a covert grin. 'Well, look at you, Mr Taking Charge.' Nick gave a snort, not meeting her eyes as though almost embarrassed.

As if to antagonize him further, Francis suddenly cupped a hand around his mouth. 'Here, Witchy, Witchy, Witchy...' he called into the night quietly.

The con artist rolled his eyes, pushing forward to take the lead as they filed down the hopefully-deserted alley. 'Yeah yeah, lions and tigers and bears too. Haul ass.'

**A Highway, 21: 35 PM**

'... so the ostrich is getting' closer and closer, right, and man- that big girl is _pissed. _Now, Keith's already used the lasso to tie up the six-foot armadillo, so he picks up his ma's prosthetic leg an' starts swingin' it around like there is no tomorrow. Only it didn't like that so much, and it like, kicks- no really, _kicks-_ the leg outta his hands. Which is a pity, because his ma had to shell out for two afterwards... one fer him and her. That ain't countin' the-'

'Ellis?' Louis asked as patiently as he could manage. The car bounced worryingly as it shuddered it's way over several unfortunate creatures that lunged for it. A few sickening cracks could be heard as their bones splintered. 'Any chance you could continue this later?'

Ellis's shoulders bobbed as he threw up a hand. 'Ah, it's okay. Ya'll heard the best part anyway.'

'Take a left up ahead, kid,' Bill directed Zoey calmly as he scanned the roadsigns they motored past. 'Keep going at the pace we are and we should be there before much longer.'

'I sure as hell hope so.' Zoey slowed the vehicle down a tad to maneuver around an abandoned tow truck, left looking oddly lonely smack center of the road. 'You think the others have reached yet?'

'You think they're even alive?' replied Louis, expression unsure. He rolled down the window a crack and pressed his rifle through, casually shooting dead the Spitter that had wandered ominously close. The car, now free of the truck, sped up once more, leaving the corpse behind. Beside him, Ellis seemed shocked at his doubt.

'Man, are you kiddin' me? Of course they are! Trust me, Coach is one o' the strongest guys I ever met. Nick's such a badass he can cover your ass _and _keep that fancy suit o' his as clean as he can, and Ro's so scary good with a gun Annie Oakley would be quakin' in her boots. And I ain't even counted that totally cool biker dude yet.'

'Francis,' Bill informed him. 'would break his own arm patting himself on the back. I'll be damned if that bigmouth ain't a good shot, though.'

'It hit him pretty hard, you know,' said Zoey a minute later. 'When you...' She inclined her head slightly, hoping he'd catch her drift before returning her focus to the road.

'When I died, Zoey. You gotta get used to sayin' that, because it ain't goin' away.'

'I know,' she agreed softly. 'But he... he changed, sort of. Took a little responsibility, especially when Ellis and the others came along. You would have been proud of him, I think. Hey- check it out.'

Four pairs of eyes flicked to the side, observing the latest sign detailing the distance left to North Carolina.

'Not far to go.' Louis chimed tersely.

**Burger Tank, Charlotte, North Carolina, 22: 28 PM**

They managed to break into the Burger Tank with relative ease. They were surprised about the fact that they had to break in at all, but apparently the managers had had the time to close up shop in an orderly fashion before grabbing a weapon and running for their lives. However, this did mean it was infected-free.

The place, unfortunately, hadn't been converted to a safe room as they had hoped it might. It was devoid of ammo, and the only weapons available were makeshift ones from the kitchen. Quickly it became clear that they'd have to ration whatever bullets they had left until they safely found the other group; once the sign was powered up, that might prove difficult.

'Nobody turn the lights switches on,' Rochelle ordered as she took a seat on a table. 'God knows we don't need those animals in on top of us before it's totally necessary.'

'Yeah, what she said.' Francis's voice sounded from near her, and Rochelle sensed him sit down on the chair beside her. Presumably with an all-out grin, he traced a hand deliberately along her side, and as she felt her skin erupt into goosebumps she was suddenly grateful neither Nick nor Coach could see any better than she could.

'We take five, people.' Coach said. 'Get our breath back. And then we're lightin' up.'

'Hey, you know... you think those cash registers are locked?' Nick asked lightly from a little further off.

'Nick!' Coach barked sternly.

'What?'

After a brief rest, the four were on their feet again. They fumbled their way through the burger joint, occasionally hissing about how they should have found some flashlights, until they found themselves in what they hoped was a simple maintenance room. The controls seemed basic enough- six large switches complete with hands to pull them up. The laminated surface of labels could be felt beside them, useless with the lack of light to read by.

'I really... REALLY... hope the others get here soon,' Coach muttered. ' And this place is plenty secure... Else this is one dumb idea.'

'You and me both, Coach.' Rochelle concurred from his side. She rested a hand on one of the switches, fingers curling around it restlessly. The three men grabbed the rest. An anxious moment dragged by.

'On three?' she proposed.

'Yeah.' Francis said quickly. 'Three!'

The Burger Tank flared to life.

Above the roof the sign illuminated and began to rotate steadily, and every infected being within the perimeter jerked around to glare with savage blood lust.

**22: 40 PM**

'Did anyone else see that?'

**Burger Tank, Charlotte, North Carolina, 23: 04**

'This place-'

_Bang. _

'-is not-'

_Bang. _

'-gonna hold-'

_Bang. _

'-much longer!'

_Crash. _

'Oh, you have got to be shitting with me!' Nick snarled as a boil-covered arm came shattering through a mostly-reinforced glass window. Rochelle didn't hesitate to put her axe to good use, heaving it back and letting it glide smoothly forward into the skin and bone that snapped like a twig.

'All it's gonna take is a Charger to bring those doors on down,' Coach called over the bellowing of the horde outside. 'And I don't know about ya'll, but this chainsaw's runnin' pretty low on juice.'

'And that's not even counting if a Tank decides to-'

Rochelle's words were cut off by a striking noise. For half an instant they balked at the notion of the statement being prophetic, but that was easily cast aside- this wasn't the earth-shaking roar of a Tank, or the deep cry of a Charger.

This was... a beeping.

A series of beeping trills, interlaced.

A pipe bomb.

Several pipe bombs.

'Get down!' Nick shouted with a sudden realization, and four bodies hit the grimy tiles just as not one but three explosions seemed to make the world wobble outside. In the kitchen, pans clattered to the floor with the motion and a fine, dusty plaster fell from the ceiling like snow, peppering their hair.

The stunned lull lasted only seconds, for outside the restaurant a couple of gunshots rang out. There was another pause, though movement could be heard, and finally a knock- a knock!- sounded from the front entrance they'd barricaded.

'Hello? Somebody in there?'

Francis shoved himself up from the floor, brushing white from his vest, and with a self-assured 'Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on!' he began to remove the stools and tables blocking the door. Rochelle joined him a moment later, eager to put a face with the voice she so easily recognized as Louis's.

'I guess the four riders of the goddamn apocalypse just became eight, huh?' Coach intoned, looking briefly at Nick. The con man looked on in his usual stoic manner.

'I guess so.'

* * *

A/N: And our eight are all together! Huzzah! This chapter was fun to write... very varied, I thought. Next chapter will pick up minutes after this one, so if you're looking for reunion stuff, don't fret. It's a-coming. Now I mention it, there's some very interesting stuff coming up soon. Also, I was desperate to get this chapter out once I'd finished it, so please forgive any typos or general weirdness- it's currently 2:15 AM. xD I know sleepiness is not an excuse, but... don't judge me. :3

Sorry if there was a delay in the release of this chapter... school is back now, and I've been snowed under with homework. Soon enough you'll have to send down those awesome rescue dogs to get me out. I'll update as soon as I can though, so no fear.

Thank you for all the epic reviewers for the last chapter- I love you guys! If you could review this one I'll love you forever. ;D Thanks, folks!


	15. For the First Time

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Fifteen: For the First Time

* * *

**Burger Tank, Charlotte, North Carolina, 23: 11 PM**

The four new arrivals filtered quickly into the burger joint, each one sweaty and exhausted and dirty and _alive _as the next. For a second the two groups looked at one another, the air surrounding them practically sparking with latent energy.

Coach spoke first. 'Glad finally see ya'll.'

And the imaginary pane of glass between them seemed to shatter.

Louis turned to Francis, who was closest to him, with a wane grin and smacked him on a muscular arm. 'Never thought I'd say this... but it's good to see you, man.' The biker began to retort but something bony and clad in red hurtled into him before he could go on. He barked out a chortle, Zoey's zeal taking him aback, and her thin arms clamped around him as best they could with a surprising power.

'Nah, don't worry, it's not like I need those ribs for anything,' he muttered.

Zoey rolled her eyes at his comment. 'You have no idea how much I missed you, you JACKASS.'

Ellis was yammering excitedly at Coach, presumably having missed the company of his fellow Savannah native. The older man seemed dazed, somewhat unused to the speed at which the boy could speak with worked up enough, but joined in with good nature all the same. Rochelle briefly laid a hand on Ellis's shoulder, and he glanced around to her with a bright smile.

'You did it, sweetie. You found 'em and you brought 'em back.'

'Told ya I would, right Ro? I don't break no promises I make. Not one.'

She gave him a warm look before moving over to greet Louis and Zoey, allowing him to turn back to his conversation, which he did with gusto.

Off to two separate sides, Bill and Nick watched the reunions with careful eyes. While Bill looked at Rochelle, Coach and the con man and saw only strangers, Nick (of course) had zero recollection of the veteran, the kid in the red jacket or the man with the tie. It was unusual that Francis, who tended to have all the observational powers of a shortsighted goat, seemed to notice this first.

'Miss me, you old geezer?' he called out, a glint in his eye at the image of his once-lost companion.

'Like I'd miss a hole in my head, moron.' Bill returned with a a scowl. But it was one of Bill's scowls that didn't quite seem to find his eyes, his substitute for the genuine smile he seemed to have been born bereft of.

They decided to stay there for the night. Rochelle was quick to inform the group that an evacuation was planned nearby the following evening; if they could hold out until then, everything might work out.

And so they all took a seat. Here, safe in this little hub of familiarity and comfort, if only for a while.

**Burger Tank, Charlotte, North Carolina, 23: 58 PM**

Rochelle excused herself from the ongoing conversation with Louis and Francis. She seemed antsy, eager to get away, though she touched Francis's arm just a fraction of a moment longer than necessary as she left.

Louis looked back and forth for a moment between the biker and the retreating back of the producer. Francis raised an eyebrow, meeting his slightly disbelieving gaze.

'You... _you_... and Rochelle?'

'What's it to ya?'

Louis gave a small chuckle. 'Man, I knew you had the hots for her back on the bridge, but I never thought you two would actually... I never thought she'd...'

'What?' Francis shot him a dangerous look. 'You think I'm not good enough for her? 'Cos FYI, Mister Manager, _she _came on to _me._'

A short pause followed the sentence, during which Louis wondered how far he could stretch his luck and not get slugged for his teasing. He swallowed, deciding that having not seen the biker for so long gave him good odds, and glanced up. 'Oh really?'

Francis held his impassive glare for a moment before snorting dismissively. 'Okay, whatever, fine. I worked a little magic, and the lady approved.' His grin was full and self-confident, something which Louis couldn't help but crack a smile in return to.

'Well, you know what, man... Good job. She's cool.'

Rochelle crossed the restaurant and hesitantly took a seat at a booth across from Bill. The older man was observing the goings-on within the place with little interest, seemingly deep in concentrated thought. She rested her crossed arms on the table top, twisting her lips to one side as he eventually turned his calculating gaze upon her.

'I don't know if you heard before... I'm Rochelle. Bill, right?'

The war veteran nodded. 'You're the one who offered Francis a kiss if he lowered the bridge I raised, if I'm told correctly.' Her cheeks pinked, and she opened her mouth in some attempt to reply but he cut her off short. 'Well, you know how to get what you want, anyway. I can't guarantee it ain't something you won't come away with fleas from, but it's one way of getting things done.'

She narrowed her eyes. 'Uh... thank you?'

'Ellis told me you were the first to remember all this horseshit,' he said unexpectedly. She smirked a little at his businesslike tone, so direct and to the point.

'The first one out of me, Coach, Ellis and Francis anyway,' she confirmed. 'Why, I have no idea. I guess it's a good thing we all did, though... probably be dead by now if not.'

Bill made a general affirmative sound, and she followed his eyes to where the others jumped from person to person to catch up and resurrect jokes that seemed to stem from so long ago. Suddenly, Bill spoke again.

'What do you remember, Rochelle?'

'What? I... everything, I guess.'

'No. What exactly? What sequence?' At her baffled look, he cut to the chase. 'Do you remember where it all ends?'

At first the question didn't compute. She blinked, eyes sliding away from his as she considered the question. Where did it all end? What bridged what had once been and what now was? The answer eased in on her slowly, like early morning fog descending on a well-known scene.

'I don't know.'

Bill's eyes softened just a fraction. He still seemed stern as ever, but the look was patient... consoling. He fished a cigarette from his coat pocket and lit it with one of the matches he'd found in the grocer's. He shook the match out. 'Listen carefully.'

What he said next only half sunk in, and instead of screaming or reacting with disbelief like he seemed to anticipate, she merely bit her full bottom lip. She shut her eyes for a moment, the darkness behind her eyelids soothing and blank. When she opened them again, she made a fleeting, breathy noise something close to a laugh.

'You know, I knew something wasn't right. I knew something was up since day one.'

'Someone mentioned the man in white-'

'Nick,' she supplied.

'Someone mentioned he doesn't remember anything from before?'

Overwhelmed, she forced a nod. She could hear the echo of blood pounding in her ears, loud and disracting. Remarkably, her hands remained strangely stready. For this she was glad- her mind was half the world away, yet something about this authoritave, heroic man made her want his respect.

'Zoey and Louis can do something about that.'

**Burger Tank, Charlotte, North Carolina, 00: 56 PM**

'This is retarded.'

'This is what works.'

'I don't care if this is what works, because it's-'

'Close your goddamn eyes, Nick.' Zoey demanded.

The con man eventually gave in (not without a snide comment muttered beneath his breath) and folded his arms almost defensively across his chest. He leaned back in the chair and waited for Ellis to begin, clicking his tongue with impatience.

'You thought of somethin', man?' Louis asked the Southerner.

Ellis nodded, directing his words towards Nick. 'It was jus' after we ran into these folks. Down at the bridge in Rayford. It was a long, long damn journey down there, but the Jimmy Gibbs did us plenty good, I'm tellin' ya. Man, she was a real beauty. I mean, it was-'

'Ellis, try to stay on topic,' said Zoey softly.

'Right, sorry. So we hadta make our way 'round to the other side o' this bridge thing so we could raise it. And what I'm thinkin' you might remember is the sewer.'

'Sewer?' Nick asked, tone flat, eyes closed.

'Yeah, man. Ro called it the Under The River Tour, and boy did you freak out. It was dark down there... real damn dark, and you wasn't so sure if the zombies or the smell was the worst part 'bout it.'

Nick's face twisted slightly in disgust, an expression Louis immediately recognised as something like the look Zoey had worn as her memories came flooding back. 'Go on,' he said tersely.

'So we's down there maybe ten, fifteen minutes, and the infected ain't comin' as fast as they was before. You kept talkin' 'bout that suit o' yours, and eventually ya say: hey, know what? If one of us done gets pounced by a Hunter or some shit down here, we's gonna be fully submerged in shit-water. But man, I was thinkin' ya jinxed it, cos maybe five seconds later I just hear this scream-'

'- because the hoodie bastard jumped me, and it took you assholes a good three minutes to get him the hell off,' finished Nick. He opened his eyes, seeming a little dizzy, yet his gaze was clear and dark.

'You got it, bro?' Ellis inquired hopefully.

'Yeah.' Nick frowned. 'Yeah, I got it.'

'Do you remember... everything?' Zoey asked quietly. She was staring into his face, searching for confirmation that she wasn't the only one to be lumped with the witnessing of so many deaths in the banks of her memories. The dead con man raised an eyebrow, reality registering with him beneath the cool facade.

'We have a winner.' And then, dismissively- 'I need a drink.'

'C'mon,' Louis told him firmly. 'Coach still doesn't know yet, and... we should tell him.'

'What? That we're all long-freakin'-dead? What a fun discussion this'll be. I _knew _there was no way in hell we'd make it out alive.'

If Louis had heard the older man, he didn't show any sign of it. 'Come on.'

Ellis and Zoey watched the two exit the employee-longue they currently occupied. Ellis sat on a grungy sofa, while she remained standing. She stared at the swinging door for a moment before speaking. 'He's not pissed about being dead, you know.'

'Oh, I think he is,' Ellis said doubtfully.

'Nah.' She shook her head. 'It's just... I get him. After not knowing for so long, the memory of everyone else being gone... the loneliness... it's hard. It's really hard.'

Zoey really was unlike any other girl he'd ever met. She smiled sheepishly at him, evidently biting back worrying thoughts, and cleared her throat. 'Can I sit?' she asked huskily.

'Oh- oh yeah, 'course you can,' he replied, shuffling over to one side of the couch to allow her to occupy the other. However, she plopped herself down on the middle cushion and blew a strand of hair out of her eye. Twisting around to face him, her eyes took on a tentative look.

'Look; I'm sorry about before, back in the warehouse.' He opened his mouth to speak but she pressed on, shaking her head exhaustedly. 'I... sort of flipped.'

'I getcha. I mean... I really, really getcha.'

'Thanks for staying with me that time.' She patted his hand.

The boy's face twisted into a fraction of his usual perky grin, and he gave a courteous nod. Zoey mentally noted that he still seemed... uncertain. Jittery, even. Why did his skin suddenly feel so heated beneath her fingers? Why was he blinking like he was being forced to look into the sun?

'Uh... Zoey?' His voice seemed to crack as her name came out. Across the hall, they could hear the others talking in the main body of the restaurant.

'Everything okay?'

'Yeah. I mean, everythin' is fine. S'just that... well. Uh. My buddy Keith once said that... that... Um. Y'know you're- eh... Ah, screw it- Zoey, would you mind awfully if-'

The penny had dropped. Zoey smirked. 'Yes, Ellis. You can kiss me.'

He didn't need telling twice. His face bent down to meet hers, eager though clearly stunned at having been granted permission in such a blunt and amiable manner. His lips traced hers shyly, finally pressing against one another. They held the kiss for a long moment, and for the first time in what felt like a million years Zoey felt content. Eventually they broke away for air, albeit reluctantly. The two remained close, her forehead leaning against his, pushing his beloved hat up at an awkward angle.

'You know...' he ventured breathlessly. 'This one time me an' my buddy Dave dared my other buddy Keith to make out with a grapefruit in the Tunnel o' Love down at Whisperin' Oaks, just ter see how people'd react. And what's weird was some folks seemed to like it, and I mean REALLY like it, cos-'

'Ellis?'

'Yuh-huh?'

'Shut it.' And Ellis felt Zoey's mouth curve into a smile against his once more.

* * *

A/N: Shortish chapter, but I wanted to focus on the little reunion and some character interactions we've never seen before in this fic. Hopefully you all enjoyed. ;) School's been kicking my ass, so I'm glad to get this chapter out. :3

Next chapter will be more action-focused, and will really start to path the way towards the end of the story. Until then, leave me and note and share your thoughts. It really does make my day.

Thanks, guys!


	16. No Disaster

I've Just Seen a Face

Chapter Sixteen: No Disaster

* * *

**Burger Tank, Charlotte, North Carolina, 06: 04 AM**

A dirty wind whistled, causing runoff from this morning's rain shower to slap to the ground with a soggy, soft noise. At the sound, Zoey instinctively shivered. The restaurant was quiet- everyone was either sleeping or occupying the tacky white booths in the front area, speaking in low voices about nothing in particular.

The infected swarming the city seemed to have been driven a little off by the downpour. Their moans were still plainly audible, yet lower and further off than before. And, though it seemed to be tempting fate to even think such things, she felt safer than she had in a long while. The reunion with their comrades was as much a blessing as it was a novelty.

The proposed rescue scheduled for this evening crossed her mind fleetingly. What would they be achieving by getting out of here? Surely they couldn't do much more damage to themselves then had been done, but then, she hadn't wondered that when Bill had been half-dead in the warehouse.

Still, the fact remained.

If fate was kind, no disaster could touch them anymore.

**Burger Tank, Charlotte, North Carolina, 08: 37 AM**

'And I'm tellin' ya, man... she likes me. I mean, there's likin' on both sides here. You see what I'm gettin' at?'

Nick looked briefly at the boy before him before casting his eyes away, feet propped up on the grubby table before him. Ellis was shaking out salt packets onto the surface as he spoke excitedly, poking patterns in the grains.

'You're telling me this why, Overalls?'

Ellis shrugged. ''Cos... I dunno, Nick, 'cos yer my buddy. And since yer memories came back all sudden, I was thinkin' maybe talkin' 'bout stuff would help.'

'Talking isn't gonna resuscitate our bodies wherever they're lying, Ellis.'

The comment, in retrospect, was perhaps a little harsh. He realized it when the younger man's mouth opened very slightly and quickly snapped shut again. The look in his eyes was something akin to a small child being informed Santa Claus did not, in fact, exist.

Nick, who had never believed in Santa Claus, didn't have many more thoughts on it. For reasons, unknown to even him, however, he changed the topic.

'So what happened?'

'We _kissed_.' The boy's face was glowing. Nick snorted, mildly amused at his expression.

'Who came on to who?' As if it needed asking.

'Well, I asked if I could an'-'

'Hold on. You _asked _to kiss her? You're seriously telling me you _requested her permission_ first?'

Ellis shrugged, eyes widening as though afraid he'd done something wrong. 'Uh... well, yeah. I mean, I didn't wanna make her do somethin' she didn't wanna, so first I just...' Nick was shaking his head, smirking. Ellis inclined his head. 'What's so funny?'

'Well- put it this way. There are walks of shame, and then there are walks of 'what the hell is wrong with you?'. Which do you think you're currently treading, sport?'

'Huh?'

'You don't ask to kiss a woman, Ellis. It's... weak. So next time you're gonna go for it- you are gonna go for it, right?- you just do it. Like a man.'

'Shit, Nick,' Ellis said after a moment. 'You know, I done got this far with 'er doin' my own thing. Somethin' tells me the walk I'm treadin' is working out just fine.'

And while Ellis was trying to rebuff the older man, both of them knew two things. One, he had taken Nick's advice well and truly to heart. Second, in a bizarre, twisted way- they'd missed each other.

Neither of these things would ever be said, but it was there.

Ellis's stomach gurgled.

**Burger Tank, Charlotte, North Carolina, 09: 58 AM**

'We hole up in a _restaurant_ of all places, and of course, there ain't anything edible.' Rochelle grumbled to herself as she, Francis and Coach raided the large kitchen. Their shoes trailed in flaking blood and street grunge, besmirching the pale grey tiles without a second thought.

'I'm with ya, little sister.' Coach replied. 'Suppose they cleared the place out a'fore they left. S'gonna be a pretty song and dance if we need to leave this place any sooner than we have to t'get food.'

'Meh. I've been gettin' cabin fever anyway,' said Francis. He straightened up, abandoning his search in a pantry-like storage unit, and made to get outside to inform the others of the problem.

They were less than amused.

'How long's it been since ya'll have eaten?' Ellis asked the room at large.

A short pause, in which they tried to remember. Bill summed their thoughts up nicely. 'Too long.'

'There was a grocery store a couple of blocks back,' Zoey ventured. 'I mean, it's either looted or locked up just like this place, but either way it's gotta have something. Enough to keep us going until evacuation, with any luck.'

'Luck's not exactly something we're blessed with here, cupcake,' countered Nick dryly. Rochelle gave him a 'play nice' look, and he smirked darkly.

'So who's going?' Louis questioned, a little apprehensive.

Coach scratched his chin. 'All o' us should. But only some o' us can.'

It eventually boiled down to the plan that Coach, Zoey, Rochelle and Francis would go in search of sustenance, leaving the still-recovering Bill, Nick, and Louis to hold down the fort. Ellis was disgruntled at having been selected to stay behind to keep watch; the grease-tinted air of the place seemed to be making him antsy and bored.

'We're gonna need to find more ammo,' Rochelle stated as they readied themselves to leave. 'Pain pills and anything else we can get our hands on too.'

Zoey nodded, inspecting her pistol carefully before taking the safety off. Ellis, leaning on a table across the room, caught her eye and she grinned at him. He smiled back, obviously worried, and half-raised his hand in a good luck gesture.

Beside her, Francis contentedly grabbed hold of a frying pan taken from the kitchen and on her other side Coach looked an his chainsaw fondly. Rochelle's voice sounded from just behind her.

'So what, now we're the A-Team 2.0?'

Zoey had to laugh at that one. They nodded at the other four and shoved the door open hastily, spilling out and slamming it securely in their wake. She heard the click as Louis locked the door once more from the inside like they'd organized, and turned just in time to splatter the head of a zombie that had come charging at her straight away.

'I'd say I love it when a plan comes together, but I don't wanna jinx anything...'

**The Streets, Charlotte, North Carolina, 10: 16 AM**

Explosions shattered the grimy daylight.

Rochelle grunted loudly as Francis's arm swung backwards, hooking around her waist hard and scooting her through the air just far enough to evade the oncoming Charger's attack. The mutated beast gave a bellow as it connected with a nearby signpost, loosing it's head of steam.

She raised her Uzi, delivering an efficient shot to the back of the creature's head. 'Boy, would it _kill _you to be a little gentle?'

'And there I was thinking you're the kind of girl that likes it rough.'

Rochelle shot him a look, but a small laugh betrayed her. She motioned for him to hurry and darted ahead to back Coach up. Zoey was hurrying onwards further ahead, entirely focused on tracing the route back to the supermarket. Catching her eye, she tossed the younger woman something. Zoey nodded with a quiet assurance and threw the pipebomb, hard.

'Everyone, get back!'

The zombies swarmed the beeping object within moments, disfigured faces pulled back in horrific snarls as they scrambled in search of the source of the incessant noise. Their eyes burned, four human enemies forgotten in an instant.

The bang rocked the ground.

Somewhere far off, something screeched dementedly.

'C'mon,' Coach said in a low voice. The other three quickened their pace, and within another ten minutes they found themselves face to face with the abandoned superstore. The place was in bad shape; a few bodies littered the shopping cart dock, and the once-impressive glass wall that made up the front of the building lay in filthy shards that glimmered in the faint sunlight.

Zoey took the opportunity of the moment of peace to steal a glance at the scrawled words on the billboard outside, obscuring from view the cheesily-staged picture of a family meal.

_PLACE IS ZOMBIE-FREE_

_not anymore. _

_Ration food, take only as much as you need and leave the rest for other groups passing through. One4All. _

_-AMEN to that, brotha. _

_Screw you guys, hippies don't survive the apocoplyse. _

_NICE SPELLING MAN _

'Anybody got a pen?' Zoey asked aloud.

Naturally, no one did. Francis and Coach proceeded to the decimated glass pane, peering through in an effort to gauge the store for danger. Rochelle hung back for a moment. 'Why you lookin' for pens, anyway?'

Zoey shrugged, gesturing vaguely at the billboard. 'I wanted to write the time and place of the evacuation later. You know... in case there's someone left?'

Rochelle shook her head. 'There's no one left, sweetie. Not in Charlotte, anyway... it's been as good as a ghost town since we showed up. S'just us now, and maybe there's a reason for that.' Her voice was soft, a little mournful, and with a grim little smile the two girls joined the men.

'What's the diagnosis, doctor?' Zoey asked before being hastily silenced with a frantic wave of Coach's hand. She looked at his concerned expression before noting the exhilarated glint in Francis's dark eyes, only ever inspired by one thing...

She knew it was a Witch before heard the echoed mewls of anguish.

No... wait. Her ears strained. It wasn't just one, that was for sure. It couldn't really be...

'How many?' Rochelle all but mouthed.

'Six,' Francis replied nonchalantly. 'Could be seven, if we're real lucky.' He moved aside so that the women could get a look. Sure enough, the depths of the supermarket seemed to be shadowy, devoid of it's usual artificial lighting, and the area was attractively dry for the Witches. All in all, an ideal settlement for them.

'Shoulda known the bitches would sniff the damn sugar out,' Coach intoned unhappily.

And yet for all their gripes and pained frowns, no one raised the question of whether they would go ahead with the plan. In some strange, laughable reality, it was the best they could have hoped for. Finding supplies and food in complete, slow-motion silence was almost preferable to doing so while being dragged away, pounced on or crushed like a doll.

Coach went first. Francis heaved himself over the shattered window carefully, grabbing both Rochelle and Zoey by the arm and guiding them in his wake less than gracefully. A fragment of windowpane became dislodged and clinked against the floor.

In the aisles toward the back, a Witch hissed quietly.

'Lights off,' Zoey reminded the others. A faint note of deja vu was struck within her. Presently she swallowed it back and began to tiptoe forward, intent on doing this job as quickly as possible.

**Burger Tank, Charlotte, North Carolina, 11: 03 AM**

When Bill opened the Burger Tank's back door to the series of bangs, he noticed two things.

One, the steady drip-drip-drip of the blood that ran from Zoey's back as she kept herself propped up between Francis and Coach, an almost delirious smile crossing her face as she saw him.

Two, the fact that all four of them were soaking wet.

They hustled their way in past him, Rochelle dumping a stuffed backpack on a counter as she moved by. She glanced at Bill wordlessly, her eyes clouded with distraction, and wrung out her shirt as she continued on. He could already hear Ellis' panicked stammers from the restaurant's main area, entwined with Zoey's uncomfortable yet admirably steady reassurances.

He flicked his dying cigarette butt outside and clanked the door shut, then turned sharply to follow them in.

'Francis! What the hell went assways this time?'

* * *

A/N: So what happened in that supermarket? ;D Yeah, find out next chapter. Which, I am both excited and sad to inform you, will be the last chapter. :o Thanks for sticking with me, guys. It's been a hell of a ride.

Also, I am fully aware all 'what the hell are going on's have not been entirely wrapped up. Now, bear in mind, everything has an answer. Which, if you'd like to request in your review, I'll PM to you. However, next chapter will clear a little more up, and anything that's not clearly spelled out there will be confirmed in the author's note. :3

So yes, next chapter will detail just what the hell happened to Zoey, Coach, Francis and Ro to soak them from head to toe and get Zoey wounded. It's a little more interesting than you'll probably think.

My reviewers rock. All of you, old and new. Also a note to the anonymous reviewers- I'd love to be able to send you guys a thank you message, but life being as it is... you'll just have to take my word for it, and my word is 'you're awesome'. Reviews for this chapter would be lovely!

I'll update as soon as I can. (:


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